


Gasping for Air

by aprilwren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death, Sibling Bonding, Teenage Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilwren/pseuds/aprilwren
Summary: Martha McKinnon needs a distraction. With most of her family in the Order of the Phoenix, her summer is anything but ordinary. But when Lily Evans and Martha's other best friends drag her out for a night of teenage fun, they stumble upon a dark secret that threatens to change everything.





	1. Misery's Company

**Author's Note:**

> This story is COMPLETE and will be published gradually over the next several weeks. I wrote it a while back along with several other stories focusing on these characters and their families. This is the one I wrote first. If you all enjoy this one, I will post the rest. Cheers y'all!

_~Prologue~_

Martha McKinnon stared at the police station ceiling. Her bare legs slapped against the cold metal chair as she nervously bounced them up and down, her too-small yellow jogging shorts riding up tightly around her legs.

There was nothing interesting about the ceiling, really. Apart from one water stain blossoming around a rusty sprinkler, it was indistinguishable from any other police station ceiling. Not that she had ever seen another police station ceiling. Granted, she also couldn't even see that well. Her frizzy mass of dishwasher-blonde hair had over taken her face, blocking most of her vision. Although she started the night with sleek, straight platinum locks, her thick curls returned with an extra dose of frizz. She knew the hair potion was temporary, but didn't expect to morph so quickly from Farrah Fawcett into an electrocuted poodle.

The fountain probably didn't help. Nor the parrots. Nor jumping off of the motorcycle which, looking back, was definitely the final blow to the sleek look advertised on the bottle.

Were Lily and the others in a different part of the station? Her gaze toward the ceiling intensified as she half-hoped to develop latent telepathic powers to communicate with her friends. It was their fault that she even left the house in the first place.

"Miss…. Hey, miss… Are you listening to me?… GIRL!"

Martha snapped out of her reverie, head jerking to center and legs falling back to the metal chair with a plop. The police station came back into focus. Martha was even more aware of the bright florescent lights and the smell of cigarette smoke than when she first entered the building. Both made her want to throw up. It even took her a moment to realize that the harried-looking policeman sitting on the other side of the desk was talking to her, and most likely had been for the past few minutes.

"Well then," the policeman continued. He was a thick-set, ruddy man who would have appeared kind if it weren't for his utter exhaustion and the overly-starched collar of his uniform. "Now that finally I have your attention, Miss… Martha, was it?

"Yes."

"You got a last name to go with that Miss Martha?" the officer wearily picked up a pen preparing to make a note on the blank report in front of him.

"Errr –"

"Oh yes, I forgot," the officer drolled. "You teenagers don't have last names. You all want to be like Cher, is that it?"

"Well, I –"

"No matter, no matter," the officer said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That's not important at the moment."

He put down his pen and leaned forward slightly with his hands folded in front of him. "Will you tell me how you came to be in Jennison's Grocery?"

"You asked me that a dozen times already!" she snapped, her nausea now rattling her entire body. "Don't you have something better to do? Break up the murderous hate group operating under your nose, maybe?"

Before she even finished her sentence, Martha clasped both hands over her mouth in shock. That level of insolence to adults was uncharacteristic of her. Not to mention that there was no way she'd be able to get out of there by being combative. Was she still drunk?

"I'm so, so sorry, sir!" she apologized frantically, brown eyes bulging.

"That's quite alright," he replied leaning back in his chair, as if he were afraid of another outburst. "Why don't you try to answer again?"

"Yes, of course, sir," Martha sighed, pulling nervously at the hem of her purple button-down shirt. "I truly don't know what happened. I was in the alleyway looking for my….cat. Yes! My cat! His name is… Peter! Poor Peter. I saw the open back door and thought that's where he must've gone to, so I went inside. I was looking for him around the store until you came in, sir."

Feeling like a genius for creating a cat on the spot, Martha worked up some extra courage to bat her eye lashes in an attempt to channel her sweeter, more pitiable friends like Lily or Mary. She quickly stopped, figuring that she probably looked less like an innocent puppy and more like she had a twitch. Yes, Martha decided, she was definitely still drunk.

"So, you're telling me," continued the officer cautiously. "That you were in an alleyway alone at three in the morning to look for your cat?"

"Yes, sir."

"A cat that you happened to bring with your from out of town? You did say you didn't live around here, yeah?"

"Yes, sir."

"And that the back door to Jennison's Grocery was left wide open long after the business closed?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"And tell me, Miss Martha," the officer leaned forward again, his ruddy face marked with skepticism. "You did all of this in your knickers?"

"Thank you again for these spare shorts, sir. It is quite keen of the station to keep extra clothing."

"Don't change the subject."

"Yes, sir."

"We get your kind all the time around here. Drifting in from god knows where, for who knows what reason. Weirdos, the lot of you. Trying to get your kicks before school starts again, eh? God, I hate summer." Martha made an attempt to interject, but the officer was caught up in his own momentum.

"There's so much lack of decency in kids these days," he rambled on. "You were probably breaking into the store on a dare weren't you? Without trousers! Why do the strange ones always come to Stowey? What is it about this place? None of the officers across the river ever have it this bad."

"But," the officer sighed with visible exasperation. "Nothing has been reported stolen. You didn't vandalize anything. I can't even get you for public indecency because you were indoors and no one has reported a half-naked girl running amuck in the town square. The only thing I could do is trespassing as a minor, which between you and me, is not worth the paperwork." He paused, vigorously massage his temples.

"Just call your parents had have them pick you up," he sighed. "They're usually the best to sort you lot out in these cases."

"My parents," said Martha as she fiddled with the lining of her button-down. "You want me to call them? On the telephone, sir?"

The officer raised his eyebrow. "Yes, as one does."

"The thing is… it's terribly late. I'd hate to wake them. Plus they live so far. I planned to take the bus home anyways. It leaves so very soon. I can just go then, sir. No need to trouble yourself," said Martha quickly as she began to rise, ready to head straight for the door. The officer quickly stood up too.

On her feet, Martha remembered that she was taller than the officer. She knew that even in her strappy platform shoes and too-small shorts, she could out run him.

The station was near empty. There would be no one else pursuing her. The officer didn't even have her full name. And there was no way in hell she would ever come back to this town. If Martha could just give him the slip and hide until the others found her, she could vanish for good.

But her situation would complicate staying hidden. She had no money, no wand, and didn't trust herself to apparate while still even slightly drunk. No one knew where she was. There could still be Death Eaters roaming the streets. She was stuck. There was nothing to do but continue to stall and hope the others would actually start looking for her.

There was one thing she knew for certain – she'd blame Lily and Bim for this.

* * *

_~8 hours earlier~_

"I'm telling you, Martha- you'll regret not going."

Lily Evans stood hands-on-hips over Martha McKinnon, half of her auburn hair in curlers. Martha sat on her fraying pink bedroom carpet as she changed the film in her camera, trying not to be bothered by her indignant friends. The conversation had been going in circles for half an hour and yet Martha could sense the other two girls growing more stubborn by the minute.

"Lily's right, McKinnon," said Bim Liu from in front of Martha's bedroom vanity as she applied shimmering eye shadow. "We've been planning this for weeks. You can't bail now."

Martha snapped a film canister shut. "Why are you both being so pushy? If I don't want to go, I don't want to go. Leave it."

"We _want_ you to come," said Lily impatiently. "We came over to _your_ house to get ready."

"I thought you came over for my top-notch chicken casserole?" said Martha in an attempt to lighten the mood. But, as had been the case all afternoon, none of Martha's attempts to change the subject could dissuade them. She'd hoped they would accept her change of mind without question, merrily heading on their way with Martha waving goodbye. If they just left it now, she wouldn't need to actually explain herself.

"You're being difficult and you know it," interjected Bim in a matter of fact tone. "If you didn't want to go, then why didn't you say anything before today? We've been planning on going to this concert since school let out."

"Okay, okay, okay!" Marta exclaimed loudly as she collapsed onto her back. "I want to go, but can't. I have a swim meet early in the morning and I really, really want to do well in my races."

"But – "

"I know what you'll say…again. Sure, I've gone out the night before swim meets in the past." Martha continued heatedly from the floor. "And I know it's 'just a few hours.' And I bet it will be loads of jolly good fun and you lot will have great stories to tell me tomorrow. But I _can't_ go."

Her hands clasped over her eyes as she continued, voice raising half an octave. "Everything is positively mad right now! Absolutely insane! How am I supposed to have fun when things are like this? I just want to swim well without gasping for air the whole time. Is it too much to ask to have control over this one bloody thing?" Martha took a deep breath and paused. She slowly sat up and looked at the ground to avoid the alarmed looks she knew her friends would be giving her.

"I know I can be at least half-decent tomorrow if I just get some rest." Martha's voice had grown quieter and almost apologetic.

Lily and Bim exchanged a quick, meaningful look. Both girls knew the true cause of their friend's moodiness. And it wasn't swimming.

"Martha," said Lily gently, sitting down next to her friend. "I know it's hard. But you can't take on that stress constantly. It's too big a burden. And, rest can only do so much."

Bim, who had come to sit with Martha on the floor, nodded. "It's not healthy, love. You need some good old fashioned debauchery. Just enough to distract you. If you stay behind, you'll just drown in all of your worries. _That_ can't help with your swimming."

"I know that neither of us can understand what you're going through," added Lily. "But we wouldn't try to convince you to come if we thought you would be miserable. Like Bim said, we'll have fun! And if we're being honest, Martha- you need this."

Martha finally looked up and relinquished a small smile. "You two are the worst influences."

"So you're coming?" Lily squeezed her friend's hand.

"What other opportunity will we have to see the Peakish Gnomes?"

"That's what I like to hear!" whooped Bim. Her face burst alive with an infectious smile. "I hear they're the sort of band you have to see live in order to get the full effect. And they're playing at the Bardo Den, no less! It's supposed to be a legendary venue."

"It is!" Lily agreed. "Magical musicians are said to have regarded the site as important long before Stowey, the Muggle town, was built around it- "

"More important than this lovely history lesson," Bim interjected. "Felix Dolan says it's the true hub of all new art and creative culture in our world. Everyone there is supposed to be so….so cool."

Lily stuck her tongue out at Bim and began to take out the rest of her curlers.

Martha stood up and walked over to her wardrobe. Looking in the mirror that hung on the front of the wardrobe door, her smile faltered at the sight of her own reflection. While she typically took pride in her long curls as well as in her tall, strong body, Martha felt her stomach sink as she took in her bedraggled appearance. She felt a wave of shame for the time she spent sullenly fiddling with her camera while Bim and Lily transformed.

She glanced at her friends' reflection behind her own. Normally, neither girl was too concerned with their appearances. However, they both currently looked like they would easily fit into the 'cool' scene at the Bardo Den.

Bim was wearing a bold red dress that popped against her almond colored skin as it gracefully flowed around her wiry frame. Lily's usually pin-straight hair was styled into soft curls that perfectly framed her thin face. She wore a form of blended Muggle and magical fashion that was in vogue- a floral jumpsuit paired with a short velvet cape matching the dark green of her eyes.

Martha felt that looking as fantastic as they did would be a herculean task.

"Are you going to stare at your reflection all night?" said Lily. "You know that it's not going to change, Mar."

"I'm not even close to being ready," Martha admitted apologetically.

"Well Bim and I are just about done so now you'll have two times the help getting ready. You'll be the best-looking person there!"

"We have some time to spare anyways," said Bim as she clipped on a pair of earrings. "We'll be late for meeting Mary and Sera, but getting you ready is a much more urgent responsibility," replied Bim.

"A much more daunting responsibility, you mean."

"Getting someone gorgeous to look even more gorgeous will be quite simple, actually."

Bim enthusiastically strode to Martha's wardrobe and began to rummage through it. Looking on as Bim carefully appraised each item of clothing she owned while Lily examined Martha's rarely used box of hair products, Martha felt a surge of great affection for her friends.

"Are you two sure you want to go through all of this effort? I could easily just pull my hair back and throw on the dress I was wearing earlier."

"Martha-My-Dear," said Lily, smiling widely at the use of her friend's nickname. "You finally decided to come and have fun, you have to pay the consequences."


	2. The McKinnon Sisters

Fifteen minutes later, Martha sat on the bathroom floor, dangling her wet hair back into the tub. The hair care process was more uncomfortable than she imagined. Martha would've believed there were a hundred fire ants digging into her scalp. She wanted so badly to itch it, but Lily had assured her that the unpleasant sensation meant that the potion was working. She instead focused all of her energy into keeping her head perfectly perpendicular to distract herself from the pain.

Bim and Lily's voices drifted from down the hall as they chatted animatedly. Pattering footsteps approach the bathroom.

"Marlene's on her way home."

Martha turned her head slightly to see Marion, her younger sister, leaning against the door frame. The girl was already in her plaid pajamas with her brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Her brand new wand was tucked into her pocket. Even though she couldn't yet use it, Marion has not left it out of her sight since buying it a week earlier.

Martha returned her head to center and gave her best attempt at a shrug. "I'd hope so. It's her night to come home. She should've been off work by now, right?"

"She's pretty late actually. But, she just sent a message saying she'd be home soon."

Marion picked at the wood of the door frame as she took in her older sister's mid-makeover appearance. "She wanted to double check that you'd be home for the night. Sounds like she'll be taking off again."

Martha swore.

Their older sister, Marlene, worked as a part-time administrator at an experimental transfiguration firm, but mostly focused her energy to fighting the Dark Arts. Like their parents, Marlene was in the Order of the Phoenix. The three adult McKinnons were constantly in and out of the house on Order business. Sometimes one, or more, of them would be gone for days at a time. Not to mention that both Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon had full-time jobs. He had some boring desk job and she was a high-raking Auror. To make sure someone was always at the house to watch Marion, the family devised a rotating schedule of 'home duty.'

But lately, their missions had become more frequent and taxing. Even their parents, who had been members of the Order since its inception, were struggling to keep up with its increasing demands. As the only of-age family member not in the Order, 'home duty' had fallen mainly on Martha all summer.

"Ugh! That's the third time this week. She always does this! We'll be lucky if she comes home before Wednesday. And of course Marlene will bite my head off if I –"

"That's what I'm saying," said Marion exasperatedly. "You're clearly going out and she's going to try to convince you to stay."

"Why do you care?" asked Martha irritably.

"Excuse you. You've been a right pain this week. Like you said, it's been just the two of us way too many times this summer. I say get you out of here before you drive me mad."

"Love you too, little sister."

The front door opened and closed with a slam. At the sudden sound, Martha's hand instinctively twitched towards her wand next to her on the floor. Marion's eyes flicked upwards as she tried not to notice her sister's unconscious flinching.

Slow, heavy footfalls up the stairs signaled the arrival of Marlene McKinnon.

"Marion! Why didn't you reply to my message?" Marlene's tired voice creaked as she approached the bathroom.

"What kind of greeting is that, Mar-Ween?" Marion replied sweetly. "And don't you look simply ravishing?"

Marlene leaned on the door frame across from Marion. Martha thought her younger sister's sarcasm was well-warranted. Marlene looked a mess. Her black hair was even more scraggly than Martha's had been earlier. Deep, dark circles lined her eyes. She even appeared more shrunken than usual, an impressive feat seeing as Marlene was over a head shorter than Martha and nearly the same height as eleven-year-old Marion.

Martha suddenly remembered that their mum had been home last night. This meant Marlene most likely had forgone last night's sleep for Order duty. That thought irritated Martha.

Despite her apparent exhaustion, Marlene managed to raise an eyebrow in surprise at the sight of Martha on the bathroom floor. "So, you either just lathered your hair in potions or you're attempting to break your own neck on the tub."

"I'm, er, going to see the Peakish Gnomes at the Bardo Den with the girls tonight."

"Since when?"

"Er –"

Martha struggled to think of something to say that would anger Marlene the least, but came up blank. "Well, technically I got the ticket a month ago." The truth it was, then. "But I didn't say anything because I thought I'd skip it. Bim and Lily convinced me to come just now."

Marlene sighed deeply and closed her eyes. "If I'd known in advance you were planning this, it might be different. But you didn't. For all Mum, Dad, and I knew, you were going to be at home tonight. AND I said I'd do extra patrolling."

"Why would you do something like that?" said Martha in exasperation. She knew she'd never get an answer, but wanted to get under her sister's skin. "You said you'd definitely be home tonight. Didn't you, Ween?"

"For the millionth time, don't call me Ween. I'm not nine anymore."

"Marion just called you that a minute ago!"

"True, but she's adorable and you're not."

"Can you two stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Marion shouted over her quarreling older sisters. "And, by the way, I'm old enough to stay by myself!"

"Show us one spell you can do legally and we might believe you," Martha rebutted.

"I'll have you know that –"

"You're not in this conversation, Marion," snapped Marlene as she shut the door in her youngest sister's furious face.

As Marion protested from the other side of the door, Marlene crossed the bathroom and stood across from Martha's spot on the floor.

Despite Marlene's air of authority, she was only three years older than Martha. And although the two sisters at first looked so different because of their height and hair, none could deny that they were related. They both had similar square jaws and light brown eyes, both features inherited from their mother. More often than not, both sisters' eyes possessed similar stubborn gleams. Marlene's eyes, no longer tired, bored into Martha's.

Ignoring her wet hair and stinging scalp, Martha sat up to meet her sister's gaze. If she was going to start an argument, she might as well not be leaning her neck awkwardly against the tub.

"It's not just about staying home with Marion," began Marlene slowly. "I messed up the schedule. Again, I know. It's just that…."

Her voice trailed away, as if a topic she'd been avoiding had finally come up and she was unsure how to broach it.

"Things are hard right now. With the Order, I mean. No, hard isn't the right word. It's not just hard, it's frightening. It's getting worse. I can't just pass up extra patrol. I need to do something to help."

"You don't think I know that?" said Martha quietly.

"Not really, no. And you should be glad you don't. Sure, you may think you know what's going on. But you only know what little information we are allowed to tell you and what you read in the papers, which I wouldn't exactly call 'fact'. Hearsay and theories, more like it. But still, I know that what little picture your mind has pieced together is enough to scare you. You don't even go to the loo without your bloody wand. Even so, reality is far, far worse."

"That's still not news to me," said Martha, trying to keep her voice even. She felt as if a cold hand clenched her stomach. Despite Martha's efforts to appear nonchalant, she knew Marlene was right. "I live with three members of the Order, don't I? The world has been a mess for as long as I can remember. But why does that mean our lives have to be put on hold?"

"'Lives put on hold?' I work so that people don't _die_. But sometimes they do. They die. A permanent hold on life. Sometimes it's a matter of them being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and other times it's not. Either way, I'll be damned if my own sister blunders around and gets herself killed by some Death Eater maniac."

"Marl –"

"What I'm saying," Marlene continued loudly. "Is that I really don't think you should be going out. The Bardo Den is a strange place and you'll be without protection. It's too dangerous."

Martha was taken aback, left momentarily speechless. Marlene never talked about her work for the Order outside of the vague context of 'mission' or 'patrol.' But still, Martha's shock at Marlene's frankness did not disguise the subtext of her speech.

"So now I'm a target because of a decision you, Mum, and Dad made? The Death Eaters could attack me because I have family in the Order?"

"Hold on, that's not –"

"It all makes sense! The protective charms on the house. Creating a mad schedule so that Marion is always guarded. Constantly leaving me home with her so that _I'm_ safe and sound inside the house as well."

"Martha –"

"And what's all of this bullocks about me being afraid to go anywhere without my wand? Marion takes hers everywhere too!"

"Marion always has her wand because she's eleven and excited to start school. You always have your wand because you're afraid a dark wizard is going to burst in at any moment," said Marlene evenly.

"From your cheerful description of the world, that possibility doesn't seem too far off."

"Come on, Martha. Don't be so bloody difficult about this."

"Oh, don't be difficult about not being able to go to a concert and have fun because _the Death Eaters may be after me!?_ "

" _Everybody_ needs to be on their toes. But, yeah, you even more so because, if they find out who your family is, they could... well... well, it just wouldn't be good. Mum and Dad are sort of badasses."

"And you're not?"

"I'm a badass in training."

Martha chuckled dryly, her dark expression never breaking. "Why is this such a big deal now? I've been out of the house this summer. Barely, but I have."

"That was different. You've mainly been going to Muggle locations during the daytime. You can escape notice there. Otherwise, you're at Diagon Alley and they wouldn't dare target there. Yet, at least."

"You keep talking as if I'm some inexperienced pre-teen who doesn't even know how to jinx a fly," snapped Martha. "I can hold my own. I have a top Auror for a mother. You know she's drilled me in defensive magic like I was one of your Order lot. Not to mention my friends are skilled too. We can watch each other's backs."

"Please. I know the Bardo Den. You'll all be sloshed after being there for two minutes. It'll be hard to watch each other's backs when you can't even see straight," said Marlene as she crossed her arms firm across her chest. "And that still doesn't solve the issue of who is going to stay with Marion. I already said I'd pick up an extra patrol shift tonight. You already said you'd go to this concert. So we're looking at one night of teenage fun versus protecting innocent people against bigoted murderers. Oh, what to choose?"

"FINE, Marlene!" exclaimed Martha as she threw her hands in the air. 

"You can still go out, Martha. You're not a prisoner. This just the wrong time and place. I'm sorry. I really am. It's your last summer before graduation and you should be having fun. I hate to force this decision on you. You know I do! But I know Mum and Dad would agree with it."

"Well, then why can't they tell me that themselves?"

"They're on a bloody miss –" 

"I KNOW where they are, Ween!"

"Merlin's damned beard," groaned Marlene. She rubbed her eyes wearily, ready to be done with the argument. She didn't notice Martha's face contorting.

"I'll be home tomorrow night. When I get back, we can talk about making sure you get more free nights, okay?"

"HOW DO I KNOW YOU ARE COMING BACK? HOW DO I KNOW THAT ANY OF YOU ARE COMING BACK? THAT IT'S NOT JUST GOING TO BE ME AND MARION LEFT HERE."

Martha was on her feet now, face red and nails digging into her palms as she fought back tears. She stared right at her sister, challenging her to answer the impossible question. All color left Marlene's face. Any pretenses of missed concerts or extra home duty were thrown out the window.

For almost a full minute, the two eldest McKinnon sisters stared at each other in weighted silence, neither quite sure what to say. Martha felt physically unable to elaborate on her immense fears and anxieties. She couldn't begin to tell her sister how it felt to sit at home, waiting and wondering if her family was in fatal danger. And, even if she could, there was no use in Marlene dismissing those fears. Such a denial would be dishonest.

Suddenly, loud footsteps rushed down the hallway, causing both McKinnons to jump.

"Okay, Martha-My-Dear! Now we go onto phase three." Lily's too-cheerful voice rang as she approached the bathroom. "And when you're done, Bim has some outfits for –"

Lily faltered at the unexpected sight of both McKinnon sisters pale and visibly shaken. The tension in the bathroom was thick and contagious.Taken by surprise, the two girls could only stare at the new comer. Lily's jaw slackened, clutching a fluffy towel and large green bottle awkwardly against her chest. 

"Marlene. Umm, hi. I didn't know you came home," said Lily tentatively.

She turned to Martha and gestured to the bundle she was carrying.

"Errr…You can rinse out your hair now. Soak it once with water, once with what's in this bottle, and then with water again."

Lily gingerly placed her load on the edge of the tub. Taking a couple steps back, she looked Martha in the eye and said, "Call for me if you need any help. With your hair or…anything else."

With a soft smile, she turned to go. Martha noticed that Lily was making a deliberate effort get out of the bathroom as quick as possible without being obvious. 

The door closed again and Marlene and Martha sunk into uneasy silence. Lily's intrusion seemed to snap them both out of their combative mindsets. Martha begun to regret what she said. The night hadn't even started yet and already she had two emotional outbursts.

"Listen," Marlene began. Her voice was near a whisper. "We never meant to make this hard on you. Like you said, it's a choice we made. It's not fair of us to put pressure on you just to make our own burdens lighter. You're right. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your life. Merlin knows the rest of the world is carrying on like everything is normal. But you just don't understand what it's really like. Who we're really fighting. Why we are fighting. You think you do, but really you don't."

"Marlene –"

"No, Martha, I REALLY don't want to have this conversation anymore." Marlene sighed deeply and mustered a small smile. "How can I not let you go out after all of the effort you're putting into that mop you call hair? I may just be paranoid. The Bardo Den should be safe. The Order can find someone else for the night."

"So you'll stay home tonight? I can go?" asked Martha, stunned in disbelief.

"Just as long as you promise me that you'll stay safe!" Marlene said sternly. "Don't do anything dumb. Do you promise?"

"I promise, I promise." Martha was unable to contain her smile. "What made you change your mind?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious that you need, and deserve, some fun."

"You need this too, by the way. Take a night off! Take a shower, Ween. You smell. Listen to the wireless with Marion. Get a whopping eight hours of sleep. When was the last time you did that, huh?"

Marlene genuinely laughed. "Two years ago is my best guess. How pathetic! Eight hours might be too ambitious."

Marlene knelt down to help her sister with the rinsing process Lily described. As she ran her fingers through her sister's hair, her authoritative mask fell away. In its place was that of a lighthearted twenty-year-old, a side of Marlene that Martha had rarely seen since returning home for the summer. Martha joked with her sister, chatting excitedly about the upcoming concert. However, she too felt as if she were wearing a disguise. As Marlene stepped away to wash her hands in the sink, Martha's dark expression returned.

* * *

"And there we have it! See, Martha, that wasn't so hard."

Both Lily and Bim looked Martha up and down as they appraised their work. As awkward as they made her feel, their proud expressions amused Martha. Even she was impressed by the drastic transformation achieved in such a short amount of time.

Thanks to Lily, her hair was now shockingly blonde and her wild curls were carefully sculpted into feathered ends. Bim had charmed a pair of plain Muggle slacks to be a shimmery gold hue. On top, she'd tied up the ends of a purple, satin button-down shirt around her waist to expose her midriff.

"Like I said, we're just complementing your natural beauty."

"You're full of shit, Bim," said Martha unable to not grin at her unusual reflection. Bim winked in return.

As the three girls descended the stairs, they spotted Marlene and Marion sprawled out on the living room couch with their feet propped up on an ottoman with several editions of Witch Weekly and a big bowl of popcorn between them. Martha noticed that Marlene had changed into a plaid pajama set matching Marion's. 

Seeing the girls, Marion let out a low whistle. "Wow, Martha. I'm fairly certain that is the most feminine you have ever looked."

"Don't be bloody rude!" Marlene playfully pushed her youngest sister's arm. "You look wonderful, Martha. All of you do."

Lily, Bim, and Martha thanked Marlene and began to make for the back door. Martha tried to usher her friends outside as quickly as any seventeen-year-old in platform sandals could move, when she heard Marlene's sharp voice calling her back.

"Wait, what time will you be home?"

"Ugh, Ween," Martha groaned.

"You promised!"

"Err – the show ends around midnight, I think."

"Bloody shit, really?" Marlene paused for a beat. Her eyes narrowed as if deciding if she should say what she truly wanted to.

"You all have your wands?" she asked with a resigned sigh.

Martha nodded indicating her white purse. The other two girls did the same to their own.

"Just be back by two, okay? And don't apparate while drunk. Take extra money for the Knight Bus. Don't talk to anyone suspicious or weird looking. Don't draw too much attention to yourself, stick with your friends, and make sure you're always, always aware of your surroundings. Stay close to each other and don't go anywhere alone. Not even the loo. And –"

"Yes, yes, Marlene! Thank you. You two have fun tonight. Bye!"

Marlene and Marion rolled their eyes in sync and went back to their magazines. Before they could be held up even further, the three girls stepped onto the back porch and disapparated into the warm summer evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Next chapter features a much less angsty Martha and quite a few familiar faces...


	3. As Long and Wild as Dumbledore's Beard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pseudo-fluff piece to cushion the angst-filled intro chapters. I honestly had lots of fun revisiting this one. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As a bit of background that I mention a couple times without elaboration, the Potters and the McKinnons are old family friends in the other stories I've written. But more on that another time!

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was always crowded. No corner of the dimly lit pub was unoccupied.

Even when she was little, Martha enjoyed the different types of people the culturally significant establishment attracted. A quick look around revealed some gnarled mainstays at the bar, a couple snogging in a tight embrace, a group of what looked like hags, a young child levitating away from her haggard mother, and at least dozen goblins squeezed into a single booth.

Lily, Martha, and Bim spotted Sera Shaklebolt sitting at the far side of the bar. Her feet were swinging off the end of her barstool as she absentmindedly swirled her bottle of butterbeer in circles. Sera glared out of the corner of her square glasses at the group next to her, a knot of loud blokes gathered around a flamboyantly dressed girl with turquoise hair.

Sera waved morosely as she noticed her three friends approaching. “You lot took your time,” she groaned.

“We gave Martha a makeover,” exclaimed Lily as she threw her arms out towards Martha like a game show host. Martha responded with a sarcastic twirl.

“Martha-My-Dear, you look slightly terrifying, but I like it!” Sera took a long swig from her butterbeer to hide her laughter as Martha made a rude gesture. 

“You know, Sera,” said Bim with her hands on her hips. “That’s what happens when you put even the slightest effort into being presentable.”

Sera rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why should I bother spending an hour getting dressed up just to stand in a dark room? Everyone will be paying attention to the Peakish Gnomes anyways” she said.

Martha shrugged, agreeing it would be strange to see Sera as primped as the rest of the group. Her appearance usually fell along the spectrum between uninterested and disheveled. However, she always wore her plain clothes as if they were ball gowns. She wore her wonderfully wild hair with a similar confidence, her halo of frizzy coils shooting off in all directions save for several hasty twists pinned around her forehead. This time, unfortunately…

“I told you she’d still be in her apron!” laughed Martha. Bim wearily covered her face with her hands.

Sera looked down, seeming to just realize that her purple and white Fortescue’s apron was still around her waist. “That explains why Mary was looking at me like I had two heads earlier.”

“Where _is_ Mary?” asked Lily.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Sera rolled her eyes pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the turquoise-haired girl and her admirers.

The girl clearly enjoyed being at the center of the attention. Her long blue hair cascaded around the shoulders of her white fur coat, which struck Martha an odd outfit choice in the summer heat. Once Martha got over her initial shock over the girl’s unconventional appearance, she noticed something very familiar about her small frame and pointed chin.

“Mary?”

In a flash of blue, the girl whipped her head around and broke into a grin. “Hi girls! Did you just get here?”

Mary MacDonald’s voice was more dramatic than usual, thought Martha. In fact, everything about Mary was more dramatic than usual. While Mary was typically fashionable and flirtatious, she always stuck comfortably inside the mainstream and kept her hair its natural mousey brown. As she turned to join her friends, she dismissed the disappointed-looking male admirers with a demure smile.

“Umm… who the hell are you and why do you have Mary’s face?” said Lily.

“You mean you didn’t recognize me? That’s fantastic!”

“Of course they didn’t. You look like the love child of a polar bear and an Andy Warhol painting,” said Sera, annoyed at being ignored earlier.

“Which is a great look, by the way,” Bim added diplomatically.

“What’s with the blue hair?” asked Martha.

“We’re going to the Bardo Den.” Mary paused, as if this was all the explanation needed.

“And….”

“Just you wait, everyone will be dressed so incredibly off the charts. I’ll look like nothing compared to them.”

“That’ll be difficult to do, love,” laughed Lily. She leaned over the bar to catch the eye of Mrs. Eunice, the Leaky Cauldron’s landlady who was currently tending the bar.

Spotting Lily waving in her direction, Mrs. Eunice ambled away from a slurring man in a top hat towards the grinning girls. “Lily sweetheart, you look as pretty as the flower of your namesake. The rest of you are positively lovely as well. Well, Ms. Sera’s her – er - regular kind of lovely. But you’ve got the right idea, girl. I reckon you lot are dressed up a bit too much for this old joint.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Eunice. We’re not staying,” said Bim.

“Now, I hope you’re not going to a disreputable London joint dressed like that,” said Mrs. Eunice in motherly manner.

“Believe it or not, we realized that we need to try something new for once,” laughed Martha. “A gig at the Bardo Den was the most adventurous thing we could think of.”

“Really, now? They have quite the interesting crowd there.”

“More interesting than the group of goblins eating raw meat in the back booths?” asked Sera.

“I’ve told them half a million times! Absolutely no outside food!” Mrs. Eunice wiped her hands aggressively on her apron as she made her way around the bar. “Give me one mo’ to sort this out and I’ll be back with some drinks for you. Did you want me to grab a few bottles for your lads while I’m at it?”

“Our lads?” asked Mary.

“The usual ones. Over in the corner there.”

As Mrs. Eunice shuffled off, the five girls turned to the table that she’d indicated to. ‘The usual ones’ turned out to be three boys in their house and year. Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew were dressed in casual clothes and appeared to be playing a game that involved flipping bottle caps at each other.

Mary groaned dramatically, throwing her turquoise head back. “I thought we were free of those four for one bloody weekend.”

“Unless I’ve just lost my ability to count, Mary, I believe there’s only three of them,” smirked Bim.

“Well, you know they’re going to turn into four eventually,” said Mary with a wave of her hand.

“It would be weird if we don’t invite them to sit with us, won’t it?” said Lily.

Sera scoffed as she untangled herself from her apron. “I think we deserve a bit of a break from those lunatics. We’ve been out of school for less than a month and have already hung out with them twice. It’s not like were obligated to mingle because we just happen to be in the same very crowded, popular pub.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t invite them over,” stated Bim practically. “They’re our friends. It’s not like spending one more hour with them will drive us mad.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m about to spend a full month with Potter at our families' annual trip,” groaned Martha.

“Exactly! Thank you, Martha. And don’t deny why _you_ want them to come over, Bim,” said Mary with a mischievous wink. “Maybe so you can sit next to a certain someone?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” retorted Bim. Martha noticed a hint of a blush creeping up her friend’s face as she stole a sip of Sera’ butterbeer.

“Oh my goodness, I was kidding! No need to get embarrassed,” giggled Mary. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. And as the only person here with blue hair, I’m making the executive decision that we should go over and talk to them.”

“Mary, I’m not sure brightly colored hair equals authoritative power,” said Lily as she smiled affectionately. “But if Bim blushing like a first year is all it takes for your blue-haired mind to flip-flop, I’m all for it.”

Mary spun around in her barstool, only slightly stumbling on her too-high heels as she ambled over to the boys’ table. From her position at the bar, Martha could see their surprised expressions as a bigger and brighter version of Mary unexpectedly plopped down next to them. Martha exchanged shrugs with her other three friends before heading to the boys’ table themselves.

“I’m telling you, MacDonald,” grinned James. “You need to say something about yourself that only we would know so we know you’re not an imposter. Not a very good one, mind you. That’s definitely the most dramatic transformation I’ve ever seen.”

“Nah, you just haven’t seen McKinnon yet,” said Peter as he noticed the other three girls. James and Remus grinned at Lily, Bim, and Martha.

“We would have dressed a little nicer tonight if we’d known you all would be looking this killer.” laughed Remus. Bim's blush slightly deepened.

“You’re all full of shit,” said Martha the second time that night. And, again, she was unable to suppress a grin that chipped away at her earlier moodiness.

“No, we are merely expert flatterers,” said James looking mockingly scandalized. “For example, Lily has outdone her own beauty tenfold. Sera Bolt, you are looking very peak Sera Bolt. And red is definitely your color, Miss Abimbola.”

“James, only my aunties are allowed to use my full name. To the best of my knowledge you are not one of them,” said Bim wearily. She used that line far too often. 

“But Bolt here lets me call her Seraphina.”

“Only if you want to lose anything Gryffindor doesn’t need for Quidditch,” Sera interjected with a glare.

“Okay, okay. Merlin, you’re a snappy lot tonight!” James as he threw his hands up in surrender. Turning to Martha, he asked, “I can still call you by your name, right?”

“I go by Bathsheba now, actually. New look, new name.”

“It suits you.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you wanted to ignore us,” cried Peter indignantly over the Leaky Cauldron’s din. They relocated to a larger table in the back. Martha decided not to mention that its last occupants were the raw meat-eating goblins.

“Believe it or not, having a girl’s night is kind of difficult when you’re with three blokes, Peter,” laughed Martha as she scooted over to allow Mary to sit next to her on the booth.

“Lily and I stood up for you!” Bim declared, making a show to pass the boys their butterbeers first as a gesture of good faith.

“I wouldn’t have, if I’d known you were going to be so irritating,” Lily smirked.

“Hey, I’ve been nice!” said James defensively.

“Only by giving compliments just to make yourself look good,” said Lily as she rolled her eyes.

“Bloody hell, here we go again,” Mary muttered to Martha.

It was a well-acknowledged fact that James and Lily could barely repress their affection for each other. Although James tamed his once nauseatingly frequent show-boating declarations of love over the past year, his feelings had obviously not changed. But he could never have guessed that by acting like a normal human being around her, Lily herself developed a crush. This fact, which was obvious to those close to her, escaped Lily who determinedly refused to accept her feelings. From Martha’s observations, whenever Lily felt herself growing too fond on James, she initiated an argument, giving herself an excuse to resurrect the laundry list of reasons to not fancy him. Martha thought the strategy typically made them look like an old married couple.

“I’m still mad at you for hexing Alfie, by the way,” said Lily as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, the mischievous look in her eyes turning steely. “It was selfish and you know it.”

“Well, aren’t you being selfish for holding this grudge? It’s not doing anything except make you feel self-righteous.” James slunk back in his chair, confident that he gained the upper hand. 

“Self-righteous, me? Rich coming from someone who is just barely managing to keep their big head upright.”

The rest of the group buried their hands in their face with either agonized moans or suppressed laughter at this well-worn insult. Those two may enjoy working out their sexual tension by bickering, but everyone else found it irritating and repetitive. Sera hurled a napkin across the table at James.

“Don’t you all look like the cheery lot,” came a new, sarcastic voice standing next to the booth. “Did I just hear Lily preparing to strike her final blow?”

True to Mary’s earlier prediction, the group of three boys became four as Sirius Black finally appeared. Martha always thought it odd when one of the four boys was missing. It was like a body missing a limb.

“Don’t encourage her,” said James amused as Sirius high-fived Lily, who smiled with satisfaction. 

The group shifted around the booth the make room for Sirius. He was dressed in casual Muggle clothes like the other three boys, but his were much more weathered. There was a dark stain around the knee of his jeans, which were tucked into heavy black boots Martha had never seen him wear. She supposed the change was related to his new job at a Muggle mechanic shop in London. His hair, which he’d been growing out since leaving his family a year ago, was uncharacteristically disheveled, almost windswept. As he sat down next to Mary, he patted her fur coat impressively.

“Ah, I suddenly feel very under dressed,” he said.

“You should've brought your striped leotard,” offered James.

“Yeah and one for Bolt, too. We’d look great matching,” said Sirius with a grin and a bark-like laugh.

“Black, do you exist solely to annoy me,” snapped Sera.

“Good ol’ Bolty. Always so friendly.”

Martha looked around the table. Mary was brushing Sirius’s dirty hands off of her pristine white coat. Bim and Remus, who were sitting next to each other, were awkwardly avoiding the other’s eyes. Lily was looking at James with an irritated expression. James remained oblivious, focusing instead on trying to topple over Peter’s half empty butterbeer bottle. Sera still wore the aggravated expression she’d maintained all evening. Martha could feel her carefree evening evaporate as a cloud of teenage angst thickened over their booth. With it came all the bad feelings she thought she'd left at home.

“You know what? No, no, no,” said Martha as she aggressively slammed her bottle down on the table with a loud clink. “Tonight is special. This is NOT how it’s going to be.”

She abruptly rose from the table and lunged over a surprised Mary and Sirius. Untangling her legs from under the table and over her friends, Martha stood up straight-backed and adjusted the crooked waistline of her golden pants in as dignified a manner she could muster.

“Sera, give me that bloody apron,” she demanded with an outstretched hand. 

“What – “

“You’ll get it back!”

“Why – “

“For the love of… I’m giving it to Mrs. Eunice for the night, okay? Just hand it over!”

Unwilling to further upset her suddenly heated friend, Sera tentatively handed over her work apron. With a sharp turn of her heel, Martha marched determinedly through Leaky Cauldron. She didn’t seem to pay much mind to the thick, and increasingly rowdy crowds. She was certain people were shooting her dark looks for her Muggle clothes, but she ignored Marlene’s cautious voice echoing in her head and marched on. The only thing she could think about were her friends’ stunned expressions as she left them in a surprised silence.

A couple minutes later, Martha weaved back to the booth while precariously levitating nine tall glasses of amber liquid.

“So that’s what was so important that you nearly took out my eye with your heels,” laughed Sirius. “Firewhiskey?”

“Yes,” said Martha simply as she flicked her wand. The contents of each glass sloshed as they slammed onto the table and magically slid to each person.

“Merlin, Martha! How did you get those?” asked an impressed Mary.

“Well, we _are_ of age now, aren’t we?” Martha replied with a satisfied shrug.

“You know, I really don’t think I’ve ever had this stuff,” noted Bim. She tilted her head down and briefly sniffed the contents of the glass. Her head jerked in a surprised disgust.

“It’s not that bad, Bim,” encouraged Remus. “At least I don’t think you’ll hate the stuff more than James does.”

“I just said I prefer the Muggle stuff!” said James defensively. “And it’s not as if my opinion on Firewhiskey is a sign of my manhood or anything.”

“No one wants to hear about your manhood, Potter,” said Martha. She started to sit down until, once again, she popped up with a start.

“Everyone raise your glasses and stay bloody still,” she said excitedly as she dug around her purse. The others all sighed in amused exasperation when she pulled out her clunky camera.

“Martha-My-Dear,” laughed Lily. “I’m surprised it took you this long to take that thing out.”

“But we’re all shoved into this tiny booth! Can we go somewhere more flattering?” said Mary as she smoothed out her turquoise fringe.

“No. Look happy! One, two, three!” Martha clicked the camera, which coughed out a small cloud of smoke. As she put the camera away and finally sat down, some of the group still had their glasses awkwardly raised.

“Does anyone else feel like someone should be giving a toast?” Peter tentatively asked.

“Don’t be thick, Wormtail,” said James with an eye roll.

“No, he has a point,” said Bim as she raised her glass cheerily and cleared her throat. “Here’s to our last summer of freedom before we’re tossed out into the cold, heartless world of adulthood. Stop laughing, Remus! May it be as long and wild as Dumbledore’s beard. May our seventh year successful and help us grow as soon-to-be adults.”

“Seventh year can also be fun too, you know,” interjected Sera, who was smiling for the first time that night.

“Yes, may it be fun too,” added Bim. She raised her glass high above her head and declared, “To…. us!”

“To us!” everyone repeated uproariously as they tilted their glasses backwards.

Perhaps ordering doubles was a bad decision, thought Martha as she heard a few gags from around the table. Even she, who was no stranger to the substance, was only able to clear half her glass. The only one to finish the entire drink in one go was Remus, who was suspiciously at Sirius.

“Oi, Padfoot!” he said. “Why didn’t you drink? Sick or something?”

“Bad luck not to drink after a toast, mate,” nodded Peter solemnly. 

“I’m not drinking tonight,” he replied.

“So this is the first time you’ve stopped drinking since you bought your flat, yeah?” asked James innocently. 

“Now, James. I’m sure he’s sobered up enough to at least make sure he was the perfect level of scruffy. That takes work, you know.” Lily added. James laughed.

“Evans, your sass tonight is next level,” said Sirius dryly. “Someone has to make sure you lot don’t make huge arses of yourselves. Or at least witness it when it happens. I haven’t decided yet. AND I have something real wicked to show you ladies later tonight.”

“Really, Padfoot? You’re going to do this dramatic reveal? Again?” groaned Remus.

“Something this great deserves the drama,” Sirius enthusiastically retorted. Remus rolled his eyes. “They’ll love it!”

“Wait, wait,” said Mary impatiently. “Are you talking about us? You’re not coming with us.”

“Where are we going?” asked Peter.

“ _We_ aren’t going anywhere,” snapped Mary again. “We _girls_ are going to see the Peakish Gnomes at the Bardo Den.”

“You’re seeing the Peakish Gnomes!?” gaped Remus.

“The Bardo Den? We’re so there,” said James excitedly. 

“No, you absolutely are not!” said Mary indignantly.

“Come on, Mary,” soothed Lily. “We have the rest of the summer to have ourselves a girl’s night. The rest of us don’t mind. Right?”

“They’re under dressed,” retorted Mary.

Sera snorted. “I still have ice cream stains on my shirt. Even Sirius is more put together than I am right now.”

“Well, they didn’t even buy tickets!”

“We can get them at the door!” said James excitedly. “Hell, if Win Henderson is working we can get in for free. We’re tight. Remus and I showed him a secret passage a couple of years back.”

“Of course you did...” Mary sighed deeply and shrugged.

Minutes later, everyone was untangling limbs and purses from the tight booth. Both birds and blokes joked excitedly about the upcoming show as they waved goodbye to Mrs. Eunice at the bar. Martha lagged behind to down Sirius’ untouched shot of Firewhiskey and raced off to join her most favorite people in the world.

* * *


	4. The Bardo Den

* * *

They heard the Bardo Den before they saw it.

The Bardo Den’s entrance was notorious for reconfiguring itself so it remained a well-guarded secret among those ‘in the know.’ After following a series of cryptic instructions embossed on the back of the girls’ tickets, the nine teenagers squelchingly trudged a narrow path breaking through thick woods lit by only the waxing moon. The weaving way took no heed of thick bushes, sloshing mud, or low-laying brambles. Mary keep shrieking as she fought the twigs clawing at her faux fur coat. Soon enough, a hum of voices broke their silence marching. 

As they got closer and the voices gradually grew into a full-blown cacophony, Martha couldn’t help but think that, despite its aura of mystery, the Bardo Den’s hidden entrance was quite conspicuous. The woods opened into a clearing where several dozen people anxiously clustered around a large Muggle drainpipe, an object Martha was fairly certain didn’t normally attract such large crowds.

Mary, it seemed, was right about outlandish Bardo Den fashion. Each person’s appearance blended daring color schemes with Muggle clothes with magical effects with styles Martha had never even seen before. It was a complete dismissal of what’s commonly considered “beautiful” in an embrace of creative individuality. Martha ran her fingers self-consciously through her straight and platinum blonde hair, wishing she went with a half-shaved and violet look.

Even more unexpected, the exuberant crowd didn’t just consist of young people. One woman dressed in an all-feather cocktail dress looked to be well into her nineties. A pair of what appeared to be third years were trying blend into the crowd. Martha hoped they wouldn’t be able to sneak in. They would have to wait their turn to experience the Bardo Den just like she did.

“EVERYONE CALM DOWN FOR A SEC, YEAH?" a magically amplified voice thundered. The entire crowd hushed obediently as if a silencing charm had quieted them. Everyone turned their attention expectantly towards a young man standing in the slightly elevated mouth of the drainpipe.

Martha vaguely remembered Win Henderson as a Ravenclaw a few years above them. He played seeker against Marlene a few times throughout the years. Although he got along with nearly everyone, he never seemed to stand out too much outside of Quidditch. But that was before he sported long, braided eyebrows and spiked nose rings. Standing above the crowd, Win possessed an air of confidence and authority. 

“The next lift is ready, but it can only hold about half you lot. The rest will have to wait,” shouted Win as he hopped onto the grass.

Martha and her friends hung back as a wave of people rushed the darkened drainpipe mouth, jostling each other to get onto the lift first. After the crowd thinned, James led the boys in a beeline for Win.

“James bloody Potter, well now,” said Win as he noticed the four boys. “Haven’t seen you in a time. And you have the usual suspects with you, as always. Heard you made Gryffindor captain.”

“Win Henderson!” said James, managing to convincingly sound surprised. “You work here, mate? Don’t you look freaking fierce! And, yeah, they made me Captain after Marlene McKinnon left a couple years ago.”

Martha, who’d known James all her life, easily recognized his transition into ‘charm mode.’ She noticed Lily barely containing an exasperated eye roll as he flashed Win a broad grin.

“Are you the one checking tickets, Win?” asked Sirius.

“Sure am. On a normal night, my job is to just see that the right people get in and the wankers stay out. The Peakish Gnomes' popularity complicated that, the bastards. Tonight I also need to make sure the fans don’t trample each other getting in. It’s surprisingly a harder job than it should be,” said Win with a dry laugh. “Want me to mark your tickets off now so you can get into the next lift?”

“These lovely ladies here have their tickets,” James gestured Lily, Martha, Bim, Mary, and Sera forward. “But we blokes seemed to hit a bump in the road this evening.”

Win looked up suspiciously from checking Mary’s ticket. “And what would that be?”

“See, our dates didn’t inform us of their need for escorts until a couple hours ago.”

Martha surreptitiously stomped on Lily’s toes as she began to protest.

“So that’s why you’re all dressed like shite,” said Win. “I wouldn’t have even let you in on a regular day.”

“Come one now, Win,” grinned James. “Don’t base us all off of Sirius’ appearance, mangy as it is. Seeing as you work here, we were actually hoping you could help us out.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Didn’t you say that you owed us one? For showing you the second floor hidden room back at Hogwarts? The one where you took Misty Greenbriar?”

Win’s expression suddenly hardened as he crossed his arms. James faltered, taken aback to realize his persuasion strategy was not as flawless as he imagined.

“How immature are you? Just because you helped me get laid three years ago doesn’t mean I should jeopardize my job to let you in for free.”

“Free? No, we have money,” piped up Sirius as he rifled through his pockets, setting loose a couple stray knuts and a strange looking set of keys.

“The show is sold out,” said Win with a raise of his braided eyebrow. A small bell dangling from the end jangled comically.

“Will anyone notice four extra people in this crowd?” Remus reasoned as he shoved a silencing elbow in James’ ribs. “No one will be able to tell you did anything out of the ordinary. It’s also not like we’ll be taking any money _away_ from the Bardo Den. Looks like you're making loads tonight.”

“We’ll buy drinks too!” added Peter.

“And we’ll buy drinks too,” repeated Remus with a laugh. “And we might look like sods, but our friends will be easily the coolest girls in there.”

Martha was impressed. Even though most people were quick to trust Remus, he was usually more hesitant around people he didn’t know too well. This new level of buoying confidence suited him well. Bim grinned admiringly. 

With a deep and dramatic sigh, Win uncrossed his arms. To everyone’s relief, he nodded. Intoxicated from the minor victory, and possibly also from the Firewhiskey, the nine teenagers whooped and cheered. Even Mary was excited the boys could join them. Sirius clapped Remus on the back so hard that he nearly toppled him over.

Even Win began to grin as he charmed a golden circle onto their hands to clear them for entrance. “You lot are much better at getting your way than I remembered.”

“Cheers, Win! We are seventh years now,” said James cheekily. “We’ve had tons of practice.”

“Don’t push it,” Martha muttered in his ear.

“I never do, Bathsheba.”

* * *

Whatever Martha was expecting, whatever stories she’d heard, nothing could’ve prepared her for the Bardo Den. Looking at her friends’ expressions, she knew they all felt the same. Even Mary, who meticulously researched the concert venue’s reputation, looked awed. 

It was much rowdier than expected. The atmosphere felt more like a lively punk pep rally than a show perhaps because the unusually large crowd was feeding off of each other's energy. Raucous, but smiling, people filled every inch of the small room wall-to-wall except for a circular platform that stood undisturbed in the middle of the room. Puffs of colored smoke floated all around, bathing the revelers in a gentle rainbow lights like from stained glass windows.

Even though the Bardo Den itself was entirely unfamiliar, Martha recognized a few faces. Scattered about were Diagon Alley shop staff, former schoolmates, and someone she vaguely recognized from a perfume advertisement.

Oddly enough, she also spotted Gideon Prewett, a friend of Marlene’s, dressed in all black and chatting with a wizard who’s face swirled with waves of color-changing paint. Standing nearby, Martha noticed with a jolt of surprise, was Brassens, one of their many former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. The typically weedy, middle-aged man wore a jacket covered in porcupine spines and seemed at complete ease in the chaos, a far cry from the man whose lectures make Binns’ classes seem riveting.

Martha felt an even bigger jolt as she caught a glimpse of Fiona Coppola of the Holyhead Harpy’s Quidditch team. She breezed by, wearing a Muggle suit and thin tie, before being absorbed back into the thick of the crowd. Martha started to point her out to James, when she noticed some of the last people she wanted to see.

Brothers Cepheus and Duncan Avery stood a little away from the crowd. Duncan was the chief member of a sinister group of Slytherins in their year. Cepheus, his brother, was only a year older but had dropped out of school early. Although no one knew the official reason why, Martha and her friends never had any doubt of his ambitions outside of school.

They were attentively observing the crowd's revelry without joining in. Martha never took them as music lovers, nor as alternate scene patrons. Something wasn’t right. Their mere presence gave Martha an overpowering feeling of inexplicable foreboding. The anxious knot in her stomach, which vanished earlier in the evening, recoiled.

“No, Sirius, don’t!”

Martha wasn’t the only to notice the Averys. She snapped towards the commotion. But suddenly, she was blinded by a shimmering disco ball blocked her view.

“Oh my, don’t you tykes look precious?” Blinking the reflected glare out of her eye, Martha realized that the disco ball was in fact a tall woman sporting a floor length cloak made entirely out of silver sequence. She stood directly between the group and the Avery brothers. “Look at this little rebel here.”

The glamorously Amazonian woman smiled affectionately at Sirius as if he wasn’t pointing his wand at her middle, which blocked the Avery brothers from the line of fire. Embarrassed by her patronizing coo-ing, Sirius shook off Remus’s restraining grip and stuffed his wand back into his jacket pocket.

“That’s a good dear,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll need two hands to hold these big boys.” With a wave of her wand, several bowl-like goblets materialized. Each one emitted a lazy cloud of dark purple smoke. The sparkly woman gave one to each of the nine teenagers. Before anyone could ask what they contained, she vanished back into the crowd with a “Play nice now, little ones.”

Taken aback, Martha stared down at her goblet. The cloud of smoke had begun to thin, revealing a murky brown liquid. The anxious knot in her stomach folded into itself, engorging as it creeped up her lungs. She downed the entire goblet in two hearty gulps.

A dizzy chill rushed through her body as the burn cascaded down her esophagus and settled in her stomach. Martha’s tension eased. As she refocused her attention, she noticed with embarrassment that none of her friends had even sipped at their own goblets. They were still fixated on the Avery brothers.

“It’s really not worth it, Black. What could they even try? This place is packed!” Lily reasoned.

“I just don’t get why they’re here,” he said suspiciously. He was doggedly alert, scanning the room warily. Maybe, Martha thought, they were lucky that one of them was remaining sober after all.

“As annoying as it is, they have as much right to be here as we do,” said Bim dismissively. “The real question is, what the hell is in this goblet?”

“McKinnon would know,” nodded Peter. “She finished already!”

Everyone turned to look at her, wearing varying expressions of amusement. Martha felt suddenly self-conscious, as if she just passed an exam that she didn’t know she was taking.

“What?” she shrugged.

“I can’t believe you of all people drank that!” laughed Sera.

“Remember, Sera – new hair, new her,” said James. “What’s the verdict, Bathsheba?”

“I don’t know, but it tastes like alcohol,” she replied honestly.

“Good enough for me!” cried Mary.

Everyone sipped happily at their goblets, as if a sparkly Amazonian hadn’t just materialized them from thin air to stop them from dueling potential Death Eaters. Martha helped herself to Sirius’s drink, wanting to chase the tension away even further. With every ounce that passed through her lips, she felt more invincible, forgetting the Averys.

The floating, colored lights dimmed. A load reverberating hum echoed through the Bardo Den. The already exuberant crowd swelled in excitement as everyone surged towards the platform. The show was starting. As the tallest two, James and Martha carved out a path through the crowd so the nine of them could get good view.

The Peakish Gnomes apparated on the stage with their instruments. Martha did not expect the famous band to look so bedraggled or ordinary. The lead singer was a crow-like woman who, despite her lanky hair and drape-like cloak, emanated a powerful presence. The rest of the band was a motley crew all dressed in drab Muggle jeans and t-shirts. Despite their outward appearance, Martha held her breath in anticipation.

The front woman opened her mouth and whispered so quietly Martha could barely hear despite her magically amplified voice. The crowd instantly hushed, hanging on her every word as she gradually grew louder and louder. Soon she was screaming so loud Martha though her head and heart would burst. 

With a final climactic note, the musicians brandished their instruments in a jerking motion. A bevy of birds burst out of the ends of their instruments like an explosion of feathered confetti. The Peakish Gnomes embedded hidden wands into their instruments – a stunt Martha never even heard of!

The flock, which was a rainbowed assortment of birds of paradise and tropical fowl, soared over the crowd. Martha’s newly shinny hair must have shone like a blonde beacon because a large green parrot dive-bombed her and perched atop her head. Its talons pulled at her hair. She shrieked in surprise, jostling the bird onto her shoulder. It shot her a sour look before flapping off to find a more suitable perch.

The remainder of the show was just as entrancing and exciting as its first few moments. The music was rough, fast, and in perfect union with the magical performance. It was sensory parade as the Peakish Gnomes combined feats of levitation, complex light shows, and human self-transfiguration with their shattering music. Thankfully no more birds were summoned, but whenever the band took a short breather, shots of firewhiskey served themselves to each member of the audience. A pleasant change, Martha thought. 

Even after two encores, the crowd was still disappointed when the show ended. The performance’s high energy lingered in the Bardo Den even as the crowd started to thin. Within a couple minutes, over half of the concert-goers vanished through either the red velvet entrance or a doorway hidden behind a drape Martha hadn’t noticed earlier. She speculated that those remaining were the true Bardo Den regulars. In fact, old Brassens was the only person still remaining whom she recognized. She didn’t see any sign of the Avery brothers.

Martha didn’t want to abandon the high of the night. Not yet, anyways. It felt too good. The others, also still enthralled by the thrill of the show, and by their own youth, agreed. The boys all told their parents they were staying at Sirius’s flat, while Lily and Bim had long planned to stay with Martha. She wasn’t sure what Mary and Sera planned, but she imagined they too invited themselves to sleep at the McKinnon’s because of the minimal parental supervision and the 2 a.m. curfew.

With a large part of the crowd cleared out, Martha noticed just how small the venue was. The Bardo Den couldn’t have been much bigger than the Leaky Cauldron or even a double classroom. It must have magically expanded during the performance to be more like a nightclub. The teenagers commandeered two rickety wooden tables to push together. 

“Oi, Win!”

James waved his arms in a windmill fashion, yelling even though Win was only a few meters away. The doorman, seeming relaxed now that he wasn’t managing the entrance, was leaning against the bar next to the shiny woman in the sequenced robe. She laughed as Win muttered something to her before they strode over towards James and the others

“Did you lot enjoy yourselves?” he asked cheekily. “I was just telling Ionia here how you sneaky youths conned your way inside.”

“We did no such thing,” James said in a mockingly scandalized tone. “He only made good on a long-standing debt. Once I buy a round of drinks, we’ll be perfectly even. Win and Ionia, my treat.”

“You promised to buy those a while back, by the way,” Win called to James' retreating back.

“Tsk, tsk,” Ionia shook her head with a smirk. “Taking advantage of a free entry without buying any drinks? That’s naughty, naughty.”

“It’s a hard to want to buy anything when the band keeps passing around free shots,” argued Sera. “That smoking goblet of mystery you gave us didn’t help much either.”

“Ah, yes,” she sighed. “My special, secret recipe is quite devastating. But it must be done.”

“She works here too,” added Win. “Her job is to distract wand happy idiots from blasting at each other and ruining the property. So, what did you all try at, huh?

“These bloody creeps, Cepheus and Duncan Avery, were lurking about,” Sirius glowered. “Sulking in the corner, just staring at everyone. There’s something dodgy about them being here. Really dodgy.”

“Yeah, they’ve been in a couple times. Remember those two from my school days,” Win shrugged. “They’ve got a bit of a Death Eater fan club vibe, but they haven’t done nothing.”

Sirius opened his mouth, prepared to give a lecture on why the Averys’ mere presence was a cause of concern, when James returned to the table with a dozen pints of Muggle beers.

Lily, Bim, Mary, Remus, and Peter, as if pulled by a magnet, scampered from the opposite end of the venue. Martha had been so absorbed in Sirius and Win’s conversation that she barely realized they left. All five wore big, stupid grins.

“Potter, would you say you loved us?” asked Bim, smiling so wide that each of her teeth were on display.

“Er…” Martha noticed James’ eyes subtly flick to Lily and had to resist rolling her own. “Why?”

“No reason,” said Mary, unconvincingly apathetic as she reached for her pint. Peter on the other hand craned his head over his shoulder expectantly. It wasn’t even another minute, however, before the mystery was solved.

“Where’ve you been, love?” called Win over the rim of his pint as he smiled somewhere past Martha’s left shoulder.

“Hiding from you, Win, you wanker,” came a familiar female voice. “I was succeeding until these kids simply begged me to come this way.”

Martha turned and gasped as Fiona Cappola, the Quidditch player she spotted earlier, stood behind her. Fiona exuded grace and sophistication that pleasantly clashed with her reputation as a merciless Chaser. Martha’s shock however, was nothing compared to James’. His mouth hinged stupidly open in awe.

“I would guess you would be the lad I just had to come talk to? My biggest fan? The current Hogwarts Quidditch superstar?” Fiona asked him with a grin.

“James bloody Potter,” Win chuckled. “What a night you’re having.”

As James broke his stupor and peppered Fiona with fawning questions, Martha couldn’t help but smile. Win was right. She wasn’t sure what normal teenagers who didn’t have an insane, evil-fighting family considered to be a fun summer night. But whatever it was, it couldn’t compare to this.

* * *


	5. Martha My Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise this is the last bit of semi-fluff before things get dark. If you care, the songs described in this chapter are: Golden Years- David Bowie, Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen, Overground- Siouxsie and the Banshees, See No Evil- Television, and of course Martha My Dear- The Beatles.
> 
> Recap: Martha fights with her sister Marlene about going to a concert in the middle of a war. She is no-so-secretly terrified, but at the same time craves control over her own life. Win Henderson helps Martha's friends and the Marauders get into the Bardo Den. James runs into Quidditch star Fiona Cappola.

* * *

The Bardo Den remained lively. It was littered with knots of people, some laughing loudly with each other, while others haughtily lounged as if they were above it all, even though they clearly enjoyed being part of the crowd. Both wizarding and Muggle music blared from an unseen source. The flashy displays of magic from the concert had fully faded, leaving only a dim haze of cigarette smoke that was much more suited to the Bardo Den's unpretentious atmosphere.

James sat at the bar with Fiona, interrogating her about the ins and outs of the Quidditch League. Win stood nearby, occasionally scowling jealously at James. He didn't realize, however, that Fiona kept shooting him anxious glances of her own.

Martha was surprised that Sera, one of James's teammates on the Gryffindor team, wasn't joining them. But she was engrossed in a staring contest with a frustrated Peter, who wasn't aware that he kept losing because Mary was secretly enchanting Sera's glasses. Ionia had taken Lily back behind the bar to demonstrate how to concoct her 'secret' recipe, much to the disdain of the grumpy-looking bartender.

Only Martha, Bim, Remus, and Sirius remained at the table. Martha took out her camera and focused her lens on Remus and Sirius as they imitated James fawning over Fiona. The camera shutter clicked and released a puff of smoke. Satisfied, Martha turned her camera to an unsuspecting Bim and snapped a picture before she could hide her face in protest.

"Martha, those pictures are going to be exceptionally blurry. You're drunk!" exclaimed Bim.

"No, YOU'RE drunk!"

"Oh, clever," Bim laughed as she pushed Martha's lens out of her face. "Unlike your lush self, I haven't had a sip since getting here. I don't trust Sirius to be the only sober one here, especially with both Averys being creepy."

"What do you mean?" Martha asked. "They're gone, yeah?"

"No, they're over there." Bim nodded towards a dark corner on the other side of the stage. "I spotted them when we went to fetch Fiona. Not to mention Duncan kept looking over at us during the show. Sirius is right, I think. There's something not right. I don't think we should hang around much longer."

Martha re-focused her eyes in the dark corner as if she were adjusting her camera lens. Sure enough, the brothers were surreptitiously slumped over a small table, staring gloomily at the bar. She couldn't believe she missed them! Did the others know they were still here? Fear and a sense of failure filled her mind. Her only two goals of the night were to stay safe, like she promised Marlene, and to not worry about the war. Because of these two bloody people, both of these goals were ruined! She had been so, so close.

"Hey now! Why are we worrying about those losers" Bim shoved Martha lightly on the arm and adopted a hearty tone, likely sensing her growing anguish. "This is just as fun as I imagined! Isn't it brilliant? Everyone is having a great time, everyone is so nice, and I LOVE this song!"

"Bim, wanna dance?!"

Out of nowhere, Remus all but jumped as Bim mentioned of the music. Martha supposed he'd been waiting for the right moment to make a move. Taken aback, but pleased by his outburst, she agreed. They leaped up on the platform stage and left Martha and Sirius alone at the table.

Martha was also pleased, having grown tired of their flirtatious tension throughout the past year. In a normal state, she'd bound off to fill other girls in on the latest development. Such gossip, however, felt insignificant at the moment. Despite Bim's best efforts to ease her preoccupation with the Averys, Martha's unease remained remained rooted.

Martha pulled her attention away from the Averys to watch Bim and Remus. As the only two brave enough to hop up on the stage, they took up its full space as they danced to a funky, swinging rhythm. Remus spun a laughing Bim in circles, her red dress fluttering dreamily. Sirius observed them with an unreadable, yet slightly sullen, expression.

"So, Black," Martha implored, more than happy to suppress her own anxieties and focus on someone else's. She shifted over a seat so she was right beside Sirius and physically yanked him around so he was forced to face her. "Are you going to tell me the real reason you're really not drinking tonight?"

"I told you earlier, to make sure you lot don't get into too much trouble. Or to laugh while it happens," said Sirius as he rubbed his shoulder where Martha grabbed him. He raised his eyebrows and smiled, but Martha still saw his melancholy lurking underneath. He shrugged. "Someone has to do it. It might as well be me since I need to stay clearheaded to show you lot something. Wait until you see! It will be bloody brilliant!"

"You see, Black, all four of you do that. You try to be all mysterious and vague, but really you just sound dumb."

"We're men of mystery, McKinnon. It can't be helped."

"So you honestly do have something to show us?"

"Yeah, I set it up while you lot waited for the lift at the entrance. I can't wait to see your expressions!"

"Then why the long face?"

"What long face?"

"The one you were just wearing watching those two nutters finally dancing together."

Sirius turned his head towards the stage. The music changed to a strange Muggle song. Something about thunder and lightning. Despite its undancability, Remus and Bim madly jumped around as they passionately lip-synced the lyrics. Sirius's gaze lingered for a moment before returning his attention back to Martha.

"And what about YOU now?" he teased as he poked Martha on the nose. She swatted his hand away, knowing full well that was the reaction he hoped for. "You've been drinking for two all night. You should either be bouncing off of the ceiling or spewing in the loo. Why are you hanging at this crummy table with the sober one?"

Martha recognized he was intentionally redirecting the conversation just like she was trying to do, but didn't have the energy to resist. She was defenseless against her insuppressible anxiety as it bubbled to the surface.

"The Averys are just over there in the corner. I thought they left ages ago," she replied darkly.

Sirius nodded. "Been keeping my eye on those two _allll_ night, you can be sure of that. Don't worry about them."

"We get all of these pamphlets and other shit from the Ministry warning us that threats are all around us and we must always on our toes. Not to mention my Auror mum is like a living safety pamphlet. _'Constant vigilance!'_ " she slammed her hand on the table in what she though was a perfect imitation of her mother. Sirius quickly caught a glass that she nearly sent tumbling off the table. "But now we let these radical purists strut around like it's nothing?"

"What's really up, Martha?"

Taken aback by his genuine concern, Martha paused to think. She was having fun, undoubtedly. But the night's highs were countered by the deep, inescapable lows. There was no room for any emotions in between. Her intoxicated mind was single-tracking. Despite her wonderful friends and the unbelievable night they were all enjoying, she now only had the capacity to think about the Avery brothers and all they represented.

"I can't even escape it here," she whispered. "What's the point of even leaving my house if I have to deal with being afraid every time I turn the corner? I can't control where or when it happens, it just does. There's no such thing as carefree anymore. No such thing as calm or freedom or even being a bloody teenager. And they wonder why I go mad sometimes..."

Sirius silently regarded Martha, his jaw hanging slightly slacked. She sometimes confided in her girlfriends about her struggles adapting to their world's inherent danger and her family's role in it, but never the boys. She preferred her support system small and under-informed.

"I might have been overreacting earlier," he finally said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The others may be right; the Averys just here for the same reason we are. We've seen loads of other people we know here. You shouldn't worry."

"But what if – "

"What if nothing!" he interjected sharply. "Come on, Martha-My-Dear, let's go see if James has forgotten all about Lily and proposed to Fiona Cappola yet."

The group at the bar was animated and slightly better at distracting Martha than sitting broodily with Sirius.Martha leaned up against the bar and observed her friends as they tried on different versions of themselves.

Fiona and James tried to call everyone together for a drinking game. But instead of gathering their friends, they ended up with a couple sporting matching orange mohawks, a witch with a whipping cat's tail, and an old man wearing a sailor hat and a bolo tie. Remus and Bim were still dancing on the stage, slowly two-stepping despite the coarse, punkish song playing. Sirius was talking to Lily. Both of their heads were bowed surreptitiously. Martha thought their eyes darted in her direction several times, but before she could think about it further, Sera barreled like a bludger right into her.

"Why does Mary always try to set me up with the wankers!?" Sera cried as she steadied herself and plopped down on a stool next to Martha.

Martha guessed Mary encouraged one of the blokes who naturally flocked towards her to also talk to Sera, who was uncomfortable with flirting in any form. Sure enough, Mary stood across the room, shooting her recently departed friend an exasperated look. Peter, who was with the pair earlier, had vanished. Win was nowhere to be seen as well, but Martha supposed he'd rather socialize with the Bardo Den regulars than a group of students.

"Sera," Martha said as she threw her arm around Sera's shoulders. "Everybody is a wanker."

"MARTHA! Where have you been?" Lily suddenly materialized, her voice laced with exaggerated cheerfulness.

"What?" Martha snapped. "Where's Sirius?" she added even though she spotted him whispering something to James, who nodded fervently. She didn't like the look on their faces. It was the look of anticipated mischief that she'd grown all too familiar with in the past six years. Between that and Lily's strange behavior, Martha was instantly on guard.

"Lily, Sera," she said. "I know where you both live. Don't do anything you'll regret. You two may be the smartest, but I'm the drunkest. You can't trick a drunk person. It's not moral."

"What on Merlin's green grave are you even talking about?" Sera laughed.

"She's just being dramatic," said Lily dismissively. "Martha, you shouldn't threaten us. I don't know if you've realized this yet, but you're not scary."

"No, I'll say it again. The shiny clothes and hair make her a frightening disco diva. Not to mention she's already a bloody giant," interjected Sera jokingly.

"Well, she can't be anything at all just growing mold."

"Growing mold?"

"It's what my mum says when people are just sitting about," Lily added before an unusually wide grin broke across her face.

"C'mon, Martha," Lily tugged at Martha's sleeve and pulled her closer to the bar. Lily leapt up on top with surprising agility. Looking down from the bar at Sera and Martha's surprised faces, she smiled. "Let's dance!"

The barman looked irritated, but unsurprised, to see a teenager standing on his bar. In fact, he released a deep, resigned sigh. The surrounding Bardo Den denizens were much more entertained by the spectacle. A handful cheered and whooped in encouragement. Lily neither acknowledged the crowd nor self-consciously simpered. She merely extended her hand out.

"What?" Martha could only say dumbly.

"Come on, Martha!" cried Lily.

"You're mental!"

"It will be fun, I promise!"

"No way!"

"Martha. Get. On. This. BAR!"

Unwilling to argue further with so many people staring at her, Martha scrambled onto the stool and precariously stepped onto the bar as several pairs of hands reached to help support her.

Martha felt incredibly awkward. She towered over the crowd by a full body length and everyone's eyes were on her, a sensation she was unaccustomed to. From her vantage point, Martha spotted her friends scurrying between groups of strangers as if they were spreading a message.

Lily grabbed Martha's hands and forced her to sway to the rhythm of a song that was defiant and groovy at the same time. It took a moment to overcome her discomfort, but soon her awkward swaying transformed into actual dancing. Okay, she thought. This isn't that bad. She would just labor through one song to satisfy Lily and then hop down. But just as she decided that, Lily nodded conspiratorially at the barman. His expression remained unmoved as he flicked his wand.

And then the song changed.

Martha recognized the opening piano chords instantly.

"No!," she cried as she made to jump off the bar. But Lily's reflexes were quick as she pinned Martha's arm to her own, holding her prisoner. Martha looked at her pleadingly, but Lily's only response was to start singing. To her dismay, a spattering of other voices across the Bardo Den joined in.

_Martha, my dear._

_Though I spend my days in conversation, pleaseee_

_Remember me_

Martha My Dear by The Beatles was her the source of her nickname, her signature song by default, her biggest pet peeve. She buried her beet-red face in her hands, but snapped back to attention as she felt Lily digging around in her purse. She unearthed Martha's camera and tossed it down to Sera, who clicked a stream of photos so enthusiastically that a full cloud of smoke engulfed her head.

_Hold your head up you silly girl. Look what you've doooonnnnneee_

_When you find yourself in the THICK OF IT_

_Help yourself to a bit of what is all around you. Silly girl_

More people gradually joined in to the song. Her friends' voices carried over everyone else's even though they appeared to have strategically spread out across the room to rally more singers. Remus and Bim wove their wands like conductors, charming the song's lyrics to appear in midair. She knew this was planned! The situation was far too ridiculous. But, she wondered, why? 

Slowly, but surely, her embarrassment abated and was gradually replaced with a balloon of happiness swelling within her. She wasn't sure if it was because of the song's bracing lyrics, her friends' enthusiastically belting, or the general absurdity of being serenaded by a group of strangers while standing on top of a bar, but Martha felt almost invincible. The impromptu chorus filled her with a surge of joy and appreciation that emanated from her head to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her bashful smile broke into a gracious belly laugh.

_Take a gooood look around you. Take a good look you're bound to seeeee_

_That you and meeee were meant to beee with each other_

_Silly girl_

The song moved more fast and rhythmic verse and Martha started to dance a jubilant boogie. She threw her arms above her head and jumped up and down, reveling in it all. They sang to her and about her. She felt the love. In the one move that could express the true breadth of her feelings, Martha outstretched her arms, lifted her smiling gaze to the ceiling, and spun in circles.

_Martha, my love_

_Don't forget me_

_Martha, my dear_

Martha noticed that one of her feet was somewhere above her head. It wasn't until she was looking at the ceiling instead of the crowd that Martha realized she was falling backwards.

The fall felt like a graceful collapse in slow motion. But as she hit the ground with a thud, she knew it probably was more like an unceremonious flop. Dusty bottles of various liquors loomed above her. A dozen concerned faces popped over the bar's edge. Only the barman, at whose feet she landed, appeared nonchalant. That insensitive bastard had the gall to even roll his eyes!

"I'm fine! I'm fine!," she groaned, lifting her arm with difficulty to wave at to the floating heads.

Lily jumped down and helped ease Martha to her feet. Once she determined the fall hadn't done any damage, Lily gushed about how amazing everything turned out as the barman escorted them from behind the bar. Most of the crowd returned to their previous postions, as if this were a typical sideshow. Although Martha though she noticed that that their energies were more uplifted. Their table of friends whooped and cheered as Martha and Lily approached.

"I hate you all!" cried Martha although her broad grin contradicted the sentiment. "Why? How? What?"

"It was Sirius' idea," beamed Lily. "And I agreed because you deserve some reward for allowing Bim and I to drag you out tonight."

"Did you enjoy it, or should I start running for my life?" asked Sirius.

"I sure did! At least until my feet decided to not work anymore," Martha laughed. "But I just don't understand why!"

"Do we need a reason?" said Mary bracingly.

"You're the lady of honor tonight, Martha-My-Dear. Accept it," Bim broadly grinned.

"The look on your face was priceless," agreed Sera. "Your pants were just a sacrifice."

Martha looked down and noticed a long tear spreading from the hem of her left trouser leg all the way up to mid-thigh. The rip broke the enchantment, reverting them to their original faded denim.

"Silly girl," said James, alluding to the song as he pulled out his wand. "Want me to mend them for you?"

"No way!" Martha protested, bending down to shield the rip with her torso. "None of you are sober enough to do that. You'd end up tearing off my leg by accident!"

"That's not tr -" 

"Don't you think you're something," drawled a familiar unfriendly voice from behind her.

Martha was finally face-to-face with Duncan Avery. Everyone tensed, ready to spring into action. Duncan was their long-time adversary in the proxy war raging within Hogwarts. Along with the likes of Mulciber and Snape, he'd willingly represented pureblood supremacy within the school. Martha hated that Avery wanted to instigate something in the outside world where the stakes were so much higher...

No, she told herself firmly. He would not do this, he could not bring her down, nor anyone else. He wouldn't be the source of her anxiety. He was not worth it.

"Being something is better than the nothing you are, Avery," Martha said coolly.

"Cocky little blood traitor, aren't you?" he replied expressionlessly. "I suppose you think that just because you look slightly less man-ish tonight, everyone should fall all over you."

"You're going to try to insult me when you're outnumbered nine to one? You really are as stupid as you look. Everyone knows you're nothing without your little friends flapping about."

Martha wasn't sure where her rush of confidence came from. She usually let others stand up to the purists at school. She could sense her friends, who initially bristled protectively, ease up as she took charge.

Duncan sneered venomously. His right arm twitched towards his pocket, as if he was barely resisting taking out his wand. Martha mirrored the motion, ready to strike. Ready to prove to him that he didn't scare her and that he had no right to push around her, or anyone she loved.

"DUNCAN!" boomed a new voice. Cepheus Avery bounded in long strides towards his brother and angrily grabbed his wand arm. Though he was only a year older than the rest of them, Cepheus carried himself in a dark, world-weary manner.

"How many times tonight have I told you?" he hissed. "Don't mind the children."

"What does it matter? It's over anyways," Duncan muttered quietly. "Can't I just bring this blood traitor down to size? Someone has to."

"Listen to your big brother, Avery," snapped James. "It's a good thing your minder was here or else you'd end up a big pile of hexed jelly."

"You – " Duncan started towards James before his brother restrained him again.

"They'll get what's coming to them soon enough," said Cepheus. Martha didn't like his overtly ominous tone. "Let the kids have their fun while they can. Our world, and our mental efforts, have no place for them."

And with that, both brothers vanished into the crowd. "You better run, you purist arseholes," Martha called after them. A bystander wearing a wooden ship for a hat looked scandalized.

Martha felt victorious. She couldn't believe she stood up to them when she was so terrified earlier! Even as the others exchanged significant glances, Martha didn't regain her anxiety. Having spent a large part of the evening out of her comfort zone, and with a whole chorus of love at her back, she felt impervious to fear.

* * *


	6. Revelations

* * *

The tense encounter with the Averys, along with the barman’s last call, signaled the end of their night at the Bardo Den.

Staff ushered the crowd out in small groups through a curtained door. On the other side was a short alleyway that led to a small town square, idyllic down to a central fountain that read _‘Stowey Town est. 943 A.D.’_ Martha turned to look back where they came from only to find the doorway had bricked over. She tried to shake the ringing out of her ears and deeply inhaled the night air, which felt oddly still and electric at the same time.

Sirius impatiently reminded the nine teenagers that he had something important to show them. He nearly left everyone behind as he marched determinedly across the square. Some of the girls fretted that taking a detour would complicate finding a floo-connected fireplace, or else a safe place to hail the Knight Bus.

Luckily, however, most of the crowd exiting the Bardo Den flowed in the same direction as Sirius, keeping their distance from each other so they wouldn’t attract notice in the Muggle town. Martha thought that was a tall order. A small knot of people walked a couple meters in front of them, while another walked behind. The line extended like this in either direction. Any Muggle watching from their windows must think that the stream of partying wizards was a parade of oddities marching through the town.

But Martha was still energized from standing up to the Averys. She blithely pranced around her meandering friends only half paying attention to their conversation.

“ _That doesn’t explain why they were acting so strange all night.”_

Martha looked up at the sky and spun in a slow circle. This town must really be in the middle of nowhere. There were so many more stars here than she was used to seeing.

_“He said something didn’t matter anymore. Something was over. And then he totally threatened us!”_

She inhaled the night air deeply. Her 2 a.m. curfew must have already passed, but Martha didn’t care. Curtains were drawn across a majority of the windows lining their path. She wondered what the Muggle residents must think of these colorful interlopers. Or was no one even awake to appreciate this glorious sight?

_“It didn’t sound like he meant it in the regular way. He’s not a school-kid anymore.”_

Rows of houses gradually gave way to forest. Martha gratefully noticed that the conversation shifted away from the Averys to Sirius’s ‘surprise.’ The other three boys, who seemed to be in on the secret, laughed at the girls’ ignorance as well as Sirius’s over-enthusiastic secrecy.

“All I’m saying, Black, is that this better be worth it after hearing you drop hints all night,” said Mary. She walked in her bare feet, heels in hand with her white fur coat lazily tied around her waist.

“Please. Watch it be a new Zonko’s product.” Bim scoffed, but Martha knew she too was curious and had fallen in Sirius’s trap. 

“Just you wait,” he beamed. “Nothing will ever be the same again.”

“Padfoot, are you really going to be this dramatic?” asked Peter.

“Naturally, mate.”

They’d long broken away from the crowd leaving the Bardo Den. No one else was around. Clouds covered the moon and the forest was so dark that they could only see what their wand illuminated. Even that soft light barely bounced off a few nearby trees before the dark swallowed it. Martha, with Sera and Lily at her side, hesitated slightly.

“This may be a slightly over the top hiding spot,” muttered James as he tripped over a root. “Believe it or not, it would’ve blended in just fine in the town.”

“I had to hide it somewhere,” said Sirius before coming to an abrupt stop and turned to face the others, his face alight with pride. “I apparated off to fetch it while we waited for the lift at the entrance. I didn’t know anything else about the area other than the forest.”

He stood in an awkward angle. One arm was stretched out and patting at the thin air, his full body tilted in a way that should’ve been impossible to maintain without losing balance. Once he was sure all eyes were on him, Sirius flourished his wand nonverbally. A large machine with two wheels and a heavy twist of chrome beneath a leather seat materialized under his arm. Sirius Black had a bloody motorcycle.

“Where the hell did that come from?” was all Martha was able to say.

“Bloody brilliant!” cheered Mary.

“Sirius, you of all people should really, really not be owning this,” said Bim in a mix of genuine worry and awe.

“But at the same time, why doesn’t this surprise me?” added Lily, shaking her head with a bemused smile.

“What is it?” Sera with her pureblood upbringing was genuinely confused. Martha would’ve been equally perplexed if it weren’t for her advanced Muggle Studies courses.

“It’s like a Muggle car, but for insane people,” sighed Bim.

“I’m not sure if he was already mad or if this thing drove him to it,” chuckled Remus.

But Sirius missed that last comment. He rambled on about how he built it himself using regular motor technology combined with magic that he hid from the Muggle mechanics he worked with. Eyes alight, Sirius resembled a small child attempting to explain an exciting new playground game to an adult. Twisting and twirling knobs on the bike, Sirius could barely resist jumping up and down. No one understood a single word, but his enthusiasm needed no translation.

“Right not it’s more or less a regular motorcycle save for a few hidden tricks. The most brilliant feature is its ability to change size with a simple spell. I shrunk it to bring it here! But there’s not too much I could add in front of the Muggles who helped me fix it up. It was a right old junker when we got it. But just you wait! I have all sorts of plans for this here bike.”

“What’s it going to do?”

“Fly,” declared Sirius. Everyone paused for a beat to let that sink in. There was something both absurd, yet entirely natural, about Sirius roaring through the skies.

“Sounds both fun and illegal,” said Sera simply. “Are you going to take us for a spin?”

“NO! NO! NO!”

“Blimey, McKinnon. No one would force you to ride it,” said Sirius wounded.

But Martha ignored him as her insides constricted. There was no way, she thought, no way. She frantically dug deep into her purse, searching for something she already knew was not there. Part of her hoped that, like the motorcycle, it too had temporarily shrunk. 

“My camera is gone,” she gasped. She could feel her face blanch as the others stared at her. “I went to pull it out so I could take a picture of Sirius and the bike and it just wasn’t there!”

“Calm down,” soothed Lily. “It can’t have gotten far, can it? I gave it to Sera when we were up on the bar.”

“And I put it back in your purse, Martha. I promise I did!” Sera nonetheless scrambled to check in her own pockets, knowing how attached her friend was to her silly little machine. Martha supposed she and Sirius were alike in that respect.

“That’s good news! It means it can’t be too far,” said Bim optimistically.

“Bim’s right,” piped in Remus. “We can spread out and search the way we took. It probably just slipped out while we were walking. You were spinning around so much that it could’ve easily hopped out.” 

Martha groaned, imagining her camera laying on the dusty streets, trampled beneath trendy shoes. It deserved a fate better than that.

“Or,” chimed in Sirius. “It’s still at the Bardo Den safe and sound. Someone probably found it. Not even that barmy old barman would’ve taken it for themselves.”

“I’ll bet Win has it!” said James. He put his arm around Martha’s shoulders and grinned in brotherly reassurance.

“So, it’s settled, you lot retrace our steps. Martha and I will go check back at the bar,” declared Sirius. In one practiced motion, he swung his leg over his motorcycle turned to Martha. “You coming?”

“Uh, I guess,” she shrugged.

On a normal day, she would’ve never under any circumstances hop on a strange Muggle contraption controlled by Sirius Black. But her camera was worth the sacrifice. Plus, she couldn’t let her anxiety take over again just because of one bump in the road. Riding this motorcycle to find her camera was just as brave as dancing on a bar or standing up to the Avery brothers. However, it was also more stupid than either of those things. Martha climbed up behind Sirius and hung on tight to his jacket shoulders.

With a flick of Sirius’s wrist, the bike fiercely roared to life. The motorcycle violently shook and sputtered under Martha’s legs. She felt as if it were an unbroken beast trying to buck her off after it judging her to be an unworthy rider. But then the world around her blurred as they zoomed forward. Trees and houses rushed past as her hair fluttered in the wind. Sirius’s newly long hair was unfortunately behaving in the same manner and continuously whipped Martha in the face.

Several minutes of rushing wind and adrenaline passed before Sirius pulled up to the Bardo Den’s hidden entrance. As Sirius secured his bike, Martha looked around. The square was dimly lit and draped in a heavy silence that felt unnerving after the rumbling ride. Not a soul was around, not even anymore straggling concert goers.

A series of thick, crunching footfalls broke the stillness. Sirius snapped to attention is a doglike manner and stared narrow-eyed across the square. Following his gaze, Martha saw Fiona Cappola and Win quickly shuffle across the square before vanishing through the dark mouth the furthest alley.

There was something off. They didn’t move like a gleefully couple seeking privacy, like Martha thought was the easiest explanation. Instead they marched with conspiratorial determination. Fiona led with fierce strides, while Win trudged blankly behind. She had her wand out, he did not.

“What do you think?” Sirius asked Martha.

“We _are_ here to see if Win has my camera, right?” she replied, knowing he was as curious as she.

Together they tip-toed across the square and peered down the alley. Fiona and Win stood in its dark middle, their silhouettes barely visible against the light spilling in from the Muggle streetlamps on the opposite avenue. They weren’t alone.

Other figures were gathered. They were angrily muttering, although Martha couldn’t make out their exact words. She looked at Sirius, who nodded in silent agreement. They crouched low and slowly edged flat along the brick wall down the alley. An auspiciously placed dumpster concealed them. Martha's heart was in her throat as she fought to quell her nerves, and also to ignore the putrid dumpster smell. 

“… completely your fault. I can’t believe you could be so stupid,” said a hissing voice. Martha suppressed a gasp. That voice undoubtedly belonged the Fiona but it’s dark intensity didn’t match that of the flirty Quidditch player from the bar. 

“Don’t act so blameless,” growled a gruff voice. “This was _your_ mission. Has been for weeks. Now it’s delayed. Not to mention your cover was nearly blown!”

“I’ve told you before,” snapped Fiona. “My cover is safe. It’s the best one we have because it is the truth. I’m still myself. My last name now is simply more digestible for the ignorant bloodtraitors. Its only good think my dearly departed husband ever gave me.”

“Don’t change the subject, girl,” interjected second, authoritative man. “Why didn’t these two boys act? Teenagers were supposed to be the perfect foot soldiers to bring down that Muggle-loving rat den.”

“It was nearly perfect, I swear!” said another. The new voice’s familiarity also startled Martha. It was Cepheus Avery. She assumed Duncan was nearby as well. “The Imperius Curse our sister used on Win Henderson was too strong. The situation didn’t exactly line up with her orders so he didn’t set it off. It was a case of the curse working too well, really.”

“How kind, little Cepheus,” drolled Fiona.

Sister?! Fiona Cappola was an Avery? That couldn’t be possible, could it? She looked over at Sirius, whose expression mirrored her own shock. ‘Fiona Avery,’ he mouthed as he racked through his old, unwanted knowledge of pureblood families.

The conversation’s full meaning hit Martha all at once like a hammer. Win Henderson was under the Imperius Curse. Fiona cursed him. She was an Avery. The three siblings and the other two men planned to ‘bring down’ the Bardo Den. These were Death Eaters. There was no other explanation.

Martha jumped as a Sirius tapped her on the shoulder. Eyes wide and startled, he gestured back towards the mouth of the alley. Martha nodded. The longer they lingered, the greater their chance of being spotted. They started to creep backwards when they sensed people approaching from behind. 

James and Lily were sneaking down the alley. Martha and Siriusfrantically waved at their approaching friends to go back, to hide, to crouch down, to not amble blindly into a group of angry Death Eaters.

“What are you doing?” whispered James and Lily at the same time, both thankfully having the mind to follow their friends’ lead and act covertly.

“Those weren't your voices we - ,” continued James before Sirius and Martha silenced him with flailing shushing motions.

Martha's chest her constricted tight as she expected curses to jet their way. Surely, they’d been heard. The three Avery siblings and their two fellow Death Eaters, however, were too caught up in their own argument. James and Lily, slowly understanding, joined in the eavesdropping.

“That’s not good enough. _He_ won’t be pleased. Not at all,” snapped one of the men.

“The Imperius-ed will tell you what happened,” pleaded Fiona. “Tell them!”

A yelp of pain echoed in the alley. A beat later, Win spoke in a monotonous tone that scared Martha more than anything else she heard that night.

“My orders were to plant the Solution in the Bardo Den’s basement storage closet. I was to keep it a secret and obliviate anyone who discovered it. I was to leave it there undisturbed until the night of the Peakish Gnomes concert, when the Muggle-loving crowd would be at its largest. Duncan and Cepheus Avery were to cluster everyone to the south side of the room. I was then to walk into the storage closet to add the final ingredient to the Solution and set off a massive explosion.”

“And why didn’t you do as you were instructed?”

“Because the crowd was never moved to the south side. I was to only add the final ingredient once the crowd was on the south side.”

“And why did this not happen?” The man’s voice quivered with rage.

“The crowd was bigger than we expected, Travers,” said Cepheus defensively. “It was impossible to shift it like we’d planned. And then we couldn’t get a message to the Imperius-ed to tell him to set if off anyways without drawing attention to ourselves.”

“I see,” said the man named Travers. He sounded authoritative and dangerous. Martha immediately guessed he was the leader. 

“Don’t you mind, Travers,” simpered Fiona, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. “We’ve infiltrated the place well enough to have another opportunity. I ordered Win to make sure the Solution remains hidden.”

“I-I-It’s good it didn’t go off tonight, anyways” entreated Duncan, breaking his own silence at last. He sounded small and terrified, a dramatic shift from when he threatened Martha earlier. “There were school kids there. Purebloods. Black, Shaklebolt, Potter. That half-blood Auror McKinnon bitch was there too. Ministry would definitely investigated!”

“Duncan!” hissed Fiona. 

“What did you say, boy?!”

“You mean to tell me that we had a McKinnon within grasp? And you say that was a reason you decide _not_ to attack?” Travers chilly voice didn’t contain any overt malice or anger, but still sent a ripple of tension across the alley. The Averys’ fear was so palpable that Martha could sense it merging with her own terror and thumping heart.

“Well, you see,” sputtered Duncan. “That wasn’t the job. How could we do it if it weren’t part of the job?”

“You want to serve the Dark Lord? Learn how we do things,” Travers hissed. “We don't CARE if the Ministry investigates! They're nothing compared to our cause. NOTHING.Enemies of our cause are everywhere and we must take any chance we get to crush the threat. These so called ‘school kids’ like Potter and _especially_ McKinnon are bloodtraitors that deserves to go the same way as their parents. The sooner the better.”

Lily gasped loudly. She clasped her hands over her mouth, but was not quick enough. A sudden silence fell over the Death Eaters.

With a creaking groan, the dumpster lifted off the ground and, like a rising stage curtain, revealed the eavesdroppers. Martha’s stomach dropped at the Death Eaters’ incredulous faces as they found the very people who they were just talking about killing, like a Christmas present come early. The dumpster soared over their heads, landing with a thud in the alley’s mouth. Their exit was blocked.

The Death Eaters gasped and snarled as they flung a bombardment of curses at the four teenagers. Everything happened so fast that it was impossible to concentrate long enough to apparate away. If what they just overheard was true, the Death Eaters must be overjoyed that Martha McKinnon, by sheer luck, stumbled upon their path once more.


	7. The Battle of Stowey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Sirius and Martha follow Win and Fiona into an alley. They overhear the Averys and a group of Death Eaters discuss their failed plan to to blow up the Bardo Den and also that Fiona is a secret Death Eater controlling Win with an Imperius Curse. The Death Eaters are furious that their plan failed AND that the Averys spared Martha McKinnon, who's family is in the Order. The Death Eater Sirius, Martha, James, and Lily hiding behind a dumpster and start to attack.

Martha stood frozen as five red beams raced towards her. A bright golden light snapped her out of her paralysis. Lily had cast powerful shield charm, giving the others enough time to pull out their own wands.

"I'll move the dumpster out of the way," James yelled. "You three cover me," The shield charm was already starting to flicker and fade.

Lily opened her mouth to argue when one of the Death Eaters' curses burst through the shield. It zoomed forcefully above their head and blasted into a brick building across the square.

Martha, Lily and Sirius fired their own assault of spells as James turned to levitate the dumpster. Adrenaline sent Martha's heart racing and acutely sharpened her mind. She tried not to think about how they were outnumbered and outmatched by wizards who were just discussing her death. The Death Eaters pushed the four of them backwards with every onslaught. The were pinned in tight, their elbows knocking against each other as they fired their best defensive spells. But then, a sudden banging thud echoed from behind.

"Yes!" James cried. Martha jumped as he pushed her towards the alley's mouth. Needing no extra encouragement, she sprinted away. 

The clattering, chaotic sounds of battle vanished once they ran into the square. The tight alley walls must have must have created an echoing tunnel. Or maybe Martha's pounding heart finally drowned all other noise out.

They didn't stop running until they reached the fountain in the middle of the square. They turned, ready to face another onslaught. But there was no one pursing them.

Now was their chance to apparate away, thought Martha. She turned to Lily, Sirius, and –

James was gone. Just as they covered for him when he levitated the dumpster, he now covered for them five against one.

Sirius sprinted back towards the alley, wand at the ready. But before he got far, James exploded back into sight.

"Win turned on them!" James panted. The right side of his face was swollen and purple. A trickle of blood dripped from his forehead, smearing on his glasses. "I knew he wasn't attacking us at first, but I didn't think he'd break the Imperius Curse! The Death Eaters were so surprised and I was able to get away."

"I'm glad you're done stupidly sacrificing yourself, but we have to go NOW!" snapped Lily. She grabbed Martha's forearm for side-along apparation when a jet of red light hit her stomach.

The velocity of the curse jettisoned Lily backwards. She hit the gravel with a crunch and did not stir, her auburn hair draped over her face. James ran towards her in full panic. Sirius and Martha resumed a fighting stance as the Death Eaters poured out of the alley after likely having just overcome Win.

Martha instinctively fired off a rapid assault, not caring to take aim. She wanted to do something, anything possible to stop them from hurting another one of her friends. One body-binder hit Duncan Avery straight in the chest. His eyes widened in childlike horror as his body tensed like he'd turned to stone.

A twisting rainbow of curses shot back towards her. Reacting quickly, Martha ducked and felt her hair ruffle as the curses blew a wake of hot air over her head. She looked up and realized with a jolt that Sirius and Cepheus were interlocked in a separate, vicious duel away from the main melee. Martha was left to face Fiona and the two older Death Eaters on her own.

A rail-thin man cackled and stepped forward. From his commanding air, Martha guess that he was their leader, Travers. Fiona and a second, troll-like man smirked as Travers pointed his wand at Martha. She braced herself to dodge another attack or for impact.

But Travers froze. His wand arm was stuck suspended in an upward arch. His eyes darted furiously even though his face was still stuck in a sneer. Fiona and the troll-like man exchanged confused looks. Then, centimeter by centimeter, Travers' arm slowly began to move again, a purple light blossoming slowly from his wand.

"Martha, move!" commanded James. Needing no extra convincing, Martha leapt out of the Travers' line of fire. The Impedimentia Curse only suspended the danger for a little while. Seconds later, Travers' arm had fully extended and blasted the exact spot where Martha stood moments before.

James caught her eye and nodded. She released a breath of relief, knowing that James would never leave Lily unmoving on the ground without first confirming that she was okay. They split off to face the remaining three combatants. James launched another curse at the recovering Travers, while dodging an attack from the troll-like man. Sirius drew his own duel with Cepheus closer so he and James could take on the three Death Eaters together.

Fiona ferociously flung a pair of stunners at Martha. Adrenaline pumping thick, Martha volleyed her own assault and jumped atop the fountain's ledge. Some instinct told her that higher ground was a smart strategic position. She hoped it was right.

Fiona madly moved towards Marth. Her tie, which looked so stylish earlier in the night, hung limp around her neck. Fiona the Death Eater's enraged, twisted features were unrecognizable from the Fiona the Quidditch Star's aloof and coy expression at the Bardo Den. Martha thought, maybe only because of the chaos, that she looked almost unhinged. She eyed Martha with hunger. Martha felt like a prey even though she had the higher ground. To Fiona, she was nothing but a means to redemption, a half-blood McKinnon representing everything against her worldview. Martha was something to be captured or die trying.

Fiona fired a powerful stream of white light. Martha barely managed to deflect it before another one flew at her. It was as if the battle was on a loop. Fiona fired. Martha blocked. Fiona fired. Martha blocked. Fiona fired.

With each curse, Fiona closed the space between her and Martha with a step-by-step determination. Her curses increased in maliciousness. Martha could do nothing but defensively leap away from several Cruciatus Curses, barely able to shoot off spells of her own.

Then Fiona paused. She lowered her wand and grinned as if daring Martha to take advantage the opportunity. But Martha couldn't. Nearly every ounce of her being screamed at her to attack. One lone, yet loud, whisper of doubt stopped her. Fiona was up to something. What if attacking now was exactly what she _wanted_ Martha to do? What did she have planned? What was she capable of? For half a beat, the two duelers started at each other.

" _Expelliarmus!"_

In a quick flash, Fiona disarmed an agape Martha. She giggled in glee and sent another well-aimed spell straight into Martha's chest, knocking her backwards off the fountain's parapet. Mid-fall Martha realized that Fiona had used her own overthinking and unpracticed reflexes against her. It was a dirty trick, Martha thought as she landed with a painful splash in the shallow fountain, but a good one.

Looking up from her back, Martha saw fast moving jets of multi-colored light crisscross across the starry sky. Water lapped against her neck and ears like a liquid oval framing her face to muffle all sound. It was almost peaceful.

Another splash rippled through the fountain. Fiona's face hovered over Martha's as she shoved a wand at her throat. Fiona's eyes shone in deranged victory. Martha felt unable move, trapped. She held her breath bracing herself for Fiona to strike. But then, a quick shadowy figure rammed into Fiona, knocking her off Martha.

Martha scrambled on her knees to retrieve her floating wand. She popped onto her feet ready to fend off another Death Eater as heavy droplets dripped from her arms like liquid wings.

But the scene had changed. More people were arriving, apparating into the square with cascading bangs. Martha tensed, expecting to be overtaken once again, fearing the Death Eaters had called for back-up.

She counted four new comers. One cloaked figure called to the others, relaying instructions before they entered the fray to relieve the James and Sirius of their duels. The shadowy figure who freed Martha was now dueling Fiona. Her hood fell to reveal a middle-aged woman with long silvery blonde hair. So at least some were on their side…

Martha scanned the square and noticed Lily still sprawled on the ground. A man knelt next to her; his wand raised.

"NO!" Martha instinctively raced towards them. Whoever he was, he was not going to touch Lily. She hit his hand with a well-aimed stinging hex causing him to drop his wand with a cry of pain.

"It's okay, it's okay," said the man as he saw Martha charging at him. He spoke with surprising calm for someone who'd just been hexed. He was stoic man with a long scar on his cheek. Though his frame was quite small and his bagged eyes and dusty grey hair that popped against his dark skin showed signs of age, something about him seemed immovable.

"Martha, isn't it?" the man asked as he aggressively tried to rub the pain out of his hand. "I'm a friend of your parents."

"You're in the Or – "

"I'm trying to help your friend," he spoke evenly, but with urgency. A crash and a scream echoed across the square. "Can I do that?"

Martha nodded. He picked up his wand and reaimed it at Lily.

" _Eneverate"_

Slowly, Lily stirred and stretched as if waking from a deep, uncomfortable sleep. Her eyes bulged widely as she remembered what had happened. Jolting upright, she looked alarmed at the man who revived her.

"Stunning Spell," he said. "I usually would recommend you to lay down and rest, but you ladies are in the wrong place at the moment."

"Lily!" James ran towards them with Sirius was not far behind.

"Get them out of here, Benjy!" called the blonde woman as she mercilessly shot spells at Fiona, who had been taking aim at James and Sirius as they ran out into the open.

"Well what are you waiting for?" the man, Benjy, made a shooing motion at the four of them. He already started to edge towards the main fray with his wand raised. "Apparate away. Go home!"

"But Lily was just stunned! She could get splinched," protested James.

"You're not staying here," said Benjy firmly. A stray spell rushed between them, barely missing Benjy's face before ricocheting into a lamppost and showering them with yellow sparks.

"I've got a motorcycle," said Sirius interjected. His clothes were badly singed. "I'll take her."

"We'll be fine," said Lily as James started to protest. "You and Martha have to go warn the others. They must still be in the forest."

Martha paled. She hadn't thought about the rest of their friends since she saw Fiona and Win disappear down the alley seemingly forever ago. Were they really still just outside of town, wondering where the other four were? Or did they too find a group of murderous Death Eaters? Martha swayed on the spot either from fear, from intoxication, or from the physical adrenaline.

"Sirius, I'm not going to be able to apparate either," Martha muttered.

"I can take you too. Let's GO!"

A bang erupted from within the fray. Benjy tensed and edged impatiently towards the fight. He commanded them to leave immediately before he himself disappeared into the melee, which was now encased in a cloud of smoke broken only by crisscrossing jets of light. The four teenagers were once again alone with only each other for protection.

Sirius led the mad dash to his bike on the opposite side of the square. Lily forcibly dragged James as he once more attempted to sacrifice his own safety to provide them cover. The motorcycle was still parked in front of the Bardo Den's hidden doorway. Sirius waved his wand as he ran and the bike roared to life.

Once they turned the corner and escaped the direct line of fire, James shouted instructions of where to reconvene before vanishing with a loud pop. Martha and Lily panted with exhaustion as they watched Sirius fumble with the twisted engine at the side of the bike until a metal cube popped out. The cube unfolded with a metallic groan until it transformed into a side car.

Before Martha and Lily could marvel at the intricate magic, another bang hastened them onto the bike. Lily climbed on the bike behind Sirius while Martha got in the sidecar.

"We'll have to drive back through the square," Sirius yelled above the motorcycle's rumbling. Lily and Martha both nodded and readied their wands to do battle once more.

The clunky, awkward sidecar made motorcycle less nimble and much slower. The steady pace allowed Martha to glance at the chaotic scene she'd just escaped.

The smoke had cleared, yet the square was pitch dark besides the spells' streams of illuminating color. It would have been a lovely light show if it weren't for the unfathomable potential for harm, danger, and even death each light carried. Benjy, the blonde woman, and another Order member continued the fight. One more lay face-down on the ground nearby the petrified Duncan Avery. The two eldest Averys, Travers, and the other Death Eater all fought relentlessly.

The battle was three Order members against four Death Eaters. Martha felt a sense of overwhelming guilt that settled in her stomach like a stone. How could they leave when the people who saved them were outnumbered?

But then, as if the fates read Martha's mind, two more figures, one large and one small, apparated onto the scene and rushed towards the battle. Martha noticed that neither wore Death Eaters' masks or cloaks and the guilt in her stomach slightly eased. Everything would be okay.

The larger of the new figures ran directly to the person laying on the ground. The smaller figure called out to her compatriots and fiercely entered the melee. Fiona smiled upon hearing the small figure's voice, abandoning a two-person assault on Benjy to attack her instead. The smaller figure volleyed her curses with skill, circling Fiona until she faced Martha and the retreating motorcycle.

It was Marlene.

Martha wanted to explain herself, to ask Marlene why she was there, to tell her to be careful, to help. In a split second, the motorcycle crossed the square towards the street corner that would take them away from the battle for good. She heard a scream as they retreated.

Her guilt burst to consume every ounce of her being. She may be the younger sister, but that didn't mean she couldn't protect her family. Marlene wouldn't run from a battle, especially not one with Martha caught in the middle. Neither her sister nor their parents would ever run away without putting up a fight. And Marlene had been so brave running right into battle, braver than Martha could have imagined. If she could do something, anything to help Marlene...

Martha made her choice just as Sirius reached the corner. Discretely securing her feet flat beneath her, Martha tucked and rolled out of the moving sidecar. Her shoulder gracelessly smacked the ground before she rolled in several dusty circles. Her head ricocheted off the ground with a burst of pain. She saw a red tail light twinkle as it faded into the distance just as darkness descended.

* * *

"Being a lunatic runs in the family I suppose."

Martha regained her ability to hear before her ability to open her eyes. Voices, strangely loud and quiet at the same time, hovered over her throbbing head.

"Not helpful, Hestia. Martha! MARTHA!"

Recognizing her sister's panicked voice, Martha opened her eyes. Three people were crouched around her. Marlene knelt by Matha's head, Benjy and her best friend Hestia Jones on either side of her. Martha blinked up at her sister incredulously.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here? Are you fucking kidding me?" snapped Marlene.

"How are you feeling, Martha?" Benjy interjected, his narrow face looking even more gaunt than before.

"Head hurts, but I'm fine," said Martha as she scrambled up onto her feet. She nearly stumbled before Marlene steadied her with a firm grip at her elbow.

"Martha, where are the rest of your friends? Benjy said James went to find them?"

"They were off at the edge of town, but I don't know if they stayed there. I don't know where Lily and Sirius are either. I was with them, but I left to come help."

"You – "

Martha, certain Marlene was about to scold her, was relieved to see three more Order members approaching. The woman who knocked Fiona off of Martha accompanied Gideon Prewett and a burly red-headed man who Martha guessed was his older brother, Fabian. Gideon was limping.

"Any news, Emmaline?" asked Fabian.

"There's no sign of them," the woman, Emmaline, huffed. "But knowing Travers, we haven't heard the end of this matter."

"What about Win? Did you find him?" That question had haunted Martha ever since he failed to emerge from the alley after breaking the Imperius Curse and helping James escape.

"Who?"

"Martha, what happened? Quickly. Time is of the essence," said Benjy.

Martha took a deep breath and exhaled a stream of words.

"The Avery brothers were at the Peakish Gnomes show, which I thought was suspicious but the others didn't think it was a big deal. But it was! They were planning on blowing up the Bardo Den! Fiona Cappola the Chaser is really Fiona Avery the Death Eater. And Win Henderson works there. They cured him to set off some trap, but he didn't. Death Eaters were really miffed about that. And then he broke the Imperius Curse when they attacked us. I don't know where he is now. Lily, James, Sirius, and I followed them and overheard everything. But then they spotted us. Emmaline was right, Travers was in charge. And there were the Cepheus and Duncan Avery and some other troll. We were fighting them until you showed up."

The five Order members paused in a stunned silence. Martha's mouth was dry from speaking so quickly, but it seemed to pair well with her racing heart and her inability to breathe evenly. The Death Eaters were still out there and so were her friends. Adrenaline from the battle still raced through her body and her brain. She had to do something, anything.

"We'll look for this Win Henderson," braced Emmaline. "Breaking an Imperius Curse? My! Such willpower is rare."

"And what about the Muggles?" Marlene pointed up. Though most of the buildings surrounding the square appeared to be storefronts, a handful of windows flickered to life as curious inhabitants mustered up enough courage to investigate the terrible noises. Fearful faces poked through curtains.

"Dammit," swore Benjy. "Emmaline and I will deal with the Muggles. And the Ministry. God forbid that they hear about this. Hestia and Marlene, scan the area. Look for Win and any Death Eaters keen to pick another fight. That isn't unlikely."

"Gideon and I will go find the other teenagers," Fabian said brusquely. Gideon, who looked like he did at the Bardo Den other than a bloody gash across is forehead, nodded. "We'll bring Martha along," he added.

"But I can help!" she protested. "You'll need all the help you can get. Er, no offense."

But Benjy and Emmaline paid her protests no mind. They slowly swept their wands across the square. As they did, time reversed. Bricks pieced themselves back together and neatly lined up into place. Scorch marks on the ground and buildings vanished instantly. Street signs, lamps, and benches untwisted and bent to their proper shape. Having made quick work, they then began to knock on every door with a light turned on. Before vanishing into the first building, Emmaline turned to give everyone else and impatient look. Clearly, as the two senior members of the group, they gave ordered and expected them to be immediately fulfilled.

"Don't be ridiculous, Martha," sighed Marlene. "You need to get out of here! There could be bloody Death Eaters out there who are blaming you for ruining their plan."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Martha fumed. "How can I not fight after all this? After everything I saw and did. I can't just leave. It's my fight now too."

Marlene furiously scowled at Martha. Through Martha knew she'd broken every promise she made to Marlene, she did not see how that mattered anymore. She couldn't image sitting around and doing nothing while people she loved were in danger. That's what she always did. It couldn't be like that anymore.

Hestia's eyes darting back and forth between the two McKinnon sisters. Fabian, who checked his watch for the tenth time in five minutes, also appeared impatient.

BAM! BOOM!

A cacophonous explosion rattled the square. It echoed from all directions, louder than the sound of an apparition, sharper than that of a crumbling building. The Order member all flinched and raised their wands.

"Absolutely no way," cried Marlene upon seeing Martha raise her own. "You're done for tonight. And you're not running away again either!"

Marlene trapped Martha's elbow in a vice grip. Before Martha realized what was happening, the world around her disappeared as she felt uncomfortably compressed, squeezed and rearranged as she was pulled into a void. After a few moments, her body escaped the vacuum.

No matter how many times she'd done it, Martha hated apparating. Side-along apparition was somehow exponentially worse. She could barely suppress a rising wave of nausea.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Martha realized Marlene had taken her into a small shop. It was so pitch black that she could just barely make out the shadowy outlines of the register and several low tables artfully stacked with boxes. The only source of light was a low glow emitting from outside the curtained front window and the light on large, humming refrigerator.

While she took in her new surroundings, Marlene cast a series of spells that Martha recognized as the protections her parents regularly cast upon their house.

"Where are –"

"Stay here," said Marlene in a frantic tone that took Martha off guard. "Please just stay."

"But –"

"I have to go back. But this place is protected so the Death Eaters won't be able to find you."

"Marl –"

But, with one last pleading look that Martha could feel piercing her through the darkness, Marlene disappeared.

Martha was left alone. Her stomach knotted as she thought about the ominous explosion and the panicked reactions of her sister and the other Order members. Surely Travers and the Averys had come back. Or worse. And here she stood as her sister ran straight into the jaws of danger. Not to mention that her friends were still out there.

The stillness of the closed shop was sedative and strange after the loud battle. It was powerful enough to drown out her anger at Marlene for dragging her away. With every second that passed, Martha's breath steadied. Her heart, which thudded aggressively in her ears for the past hour, softened until she could barely hear it at all. Her adrenaline was dissipating.

Sensations came back to her body. A burning pain alerted her to a bloody, skinned patch on her right shoulder. Her head suddenly felt as if weighed a ton. But the strongest of her previously-ignored sensations was the wet and heavy constriction around her legs. She'd forgotten all about her forced dip in the fountain.

How strange it was to think that not too back in the night, her biggest worries were her torn bell-bottoms and lost camera. Her biggest fight had been a war of words, not a literal battle. It was difficult to image anything at all before she escaped the alleyway or dueled Fiona or saw her sister in the fight.

But now that she noticed how uncomfortable her wet jean trousers were, she couldn't think of anything else; not even her own anger and frustration.

A minute of blind stumbling led her to a tiny loo behind the register. Without hesitation, and without bothering to close the door, Martha peeled off her soaked jeans and let them fall into a clumsy heap along with her purse, which miraculously remained looped across her body throughout the action. Her bare legs rejoiced in freedom as air caressed them. Relieved for a brief moment, Martha turned on the faucet and splashed her face, vaguely aware of Bim's artful make-up job running down her cheeks.

She looked up again and saw flashes of blue and red swirling in the bathroom mirror. Martha froze like a frightened hare. Surely the Death Eaters found their way through Marlene's spells and were shooting stunners and who knows what else at her!

Outside of the loo, the red and blue lights illuminated the entire shop as they flood in through the front window curtains. But these lights were too mechanically repetitive and distorted be curses. Still, something about them seemed threatening.

Marlene's protective charms were strong, Martha reasoned. Even if there were Death Eaters or some other danger lurking outside, they wouldn't be able to get inside no matter how hard they tried. She was certain.

The front door's lock clicked like a gunshot. Slowly, the door creaked open. A portly man dressed in black and white walked inside. He held a long metal device that shone a concentrated, bright light. Martha recognized it as Muggle tool called a torch. She gasped with a burst of realization. Marlene's spells hid her from Death Eaters, but not from Muggles.

The Muggle man, backlit by the flashing red and blue lights, looked confused and even startled at the mere sight of Martha. He silently blinked as he stroked his mustache. Martha too was frozen by surprise and by intense embarrassment. A gentle breeze wafted inside and made Martha painfully aware that her trousers were crumpled on the bathroom floor.

The Muggle man pulled some sort of small black box from his belt and spoke to it authoritatively. Martha took a hurried stock of her situation. Her wand (and her trousers) were out of her reach. Only Marlene, who was currently patrolling for Death Eaters, knew she was here. She was stood half-naked in a closed Muggle shop in the middle of the night.

There was no way this looked good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd we're all caught up to the prologue! Only a couple more chapters left. Thanks for reading :)


	8. Growing Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Martha, Lily, James, and Sirius are pulled into battle after overhearing a group of Death Eaters discuss their failed plot to blow up the famous Bardo Den. Win breaks free from the Imperius Curse to defend them. The Death Eaters outmatch the four teenagers, but fall back when reinforcements from the Order arrive including Marlene. Martha, wanting to help her sister stays behind. A huge explosion drives Marlene to hide Martha in a closed Muggle shop. A police officer finds her and takes her away without her wand.

Martha was the only one in the holding cell.

The police officer had left her locked up all night, or at least the remainder of the night. The first rays of sun shone through the small cell window after not even an hour of sitting in the darkness. Unable to fall asleep, Martha measured the passing time by her headache’s growing intensity. She wasn’t sure if it was from jumping out of the motorcycle or an impending hangover.

Much to the officer’s chagrin, Martha remained steadfast in her refusal to give her full name. She imagined that putting her in the cell was a strategy to scare her into talking. But, even knowing that she wouldn’t appear in any Muggle records anyways, she stubbornly refused to play his game. If she gave her name, then the Death Eaters could track her down. The rumbling explosion still echoed in Martha’s brain.

However, no one at the police station seemed concerned about the magical battle that ravaged their town square the night before. Martha imagined that someone had done a spectacular job at cleaning up the mess. She just didn’t know if that someone was from the Order, the Ministry, or the Death Eaters...

Just as she started to plot how long she should wait before breaking out and searching for the others on her own, the cell door creaked open. The police officer stepped in looking tired yet triumphant.

“Martha McKinnon,” he said. Martha twitched in surprise.

“So that is your name then?” he puffed. “You’re home free then, girl. Your person is here to pick you up.”

Martha felt a rush of relief. Marlene had finally found her, meaning that all was well and the danger had passed. Her friends were fine, Marlene was fine, the Order was fine, and even Win was fine. She was so excited, she nearly skipped off the wooden bench and out of the cell.

She followed the officer out into the main hall where they, much to Martha’s surprise, found an unfamiliar woman waiting for her. She was wore a formal Muggle suit and the largest pair of circular glasses Martha had ever seen. Marlene wasn’t anywhere around.

“There you are, Ms. McKinnon,” the woman clipped. Martha noted that her efforts to appear relieved and sympathetic did not quite break through her professional, and rather clinical, demeanor.

“This young lady here caused quite the stir,” drolled the policeman “First, trespassing on private property half naked. Then, lying about it and refusing to tell us her name. I’m sure she would have rotted in our holding cell if you hadn’t found her. Such stubbornness, good heavens!”

“Yes, that is the case for most of the disturbed youths at our institution,” said the woman. “But we have always had such trouble with Martha here. None of the other patients are so bold as to run off quite this far away.”

The officer nodded his head sympathetically. “I’m glad we could be of help.”

“It was good of you not to press charges. We’ll certainly be keeping a closer eye on her from now on.”

Martha observed their exchange silently. The woman was particularly adept at lying without batting an eyelash, unless Martha _was_ somehow an institutionalized and disturbed youth...

“Come along, Ms. McKinnon,” commanded the woman. But Martha did not budge. The woman sighed impatiently. She was undoubtedly a witch, based on her knowledge of Martha’s surname and her out-of-place, overly formal clothes. But was she sent by her friends and family, or by those who tried to kill her just the night before?

“All of your friends are looking forward to seeing you safe and sound. Clifford and Marlene in particular.”

Those two names caught Martha’s attention. The name of her father and the name both her mother and sister shared were added like a code. Something in the way the woman’s eyes shone confirmed the theory. Martha knew that anyone in the magical world could have that information. But surely a Death Eater would be less transparent in their plot to kidnap her, wouldn’t they?

Martha followed the woman out of the police station with trepidation. The woman walked brusquely across a car lot, her heels clicking rhythmically against the asphalt. Martha first thought she was heading towards one of the parked cars when she abruptly changed course and walked in between a thick cluster of trees lining the lot.

“My name is Mona Perkins,” the woman said low and fast. Her professionally efficient and clipped manner were evidently not an act for the police station. “I am a member of the Magical Reversal Squad assigned to the Auror Department.”

Martha’s stomached dropped in disappointment. Even though she was glad that the woman wasn’t a murderous Death Eater, she hoped someone from the Order would come to tell her everything that happened. She recalled Benjy’s apprehension to involve the Ministry and felt a rising swell of guilt. Clearly something did not go according to plan. Martha hoped her own disappearance wasn’t what threw things off.

Mona Perkins offered Martha her plaid-coated elbow. Knowing what exactly what would happen, Martha took hold and was once more sucked into the vacuum of side-along apparition.

They reappeared on a deserted urban street. The thick, smoggy air and the skyscraper shadows said that they definitely weren’t in Stowey anymore. They were in central London. Before Martha could catch her breath, Mona Perkins marched her into a defunct telephone booth. Martha didn’t bother to suppress a groan.

More than anything, she wanted to collapse into her bed and fall into an ignorantly blissful sleep where there were no curses flying over her head, no puffed up coppers, and nothing waiting for her when she woke up except a large breakfast. But she knew all too well that this was the Ministry’s visitor entrance. Instead of rest, she imagined her arrival at the Ministry meant interrogation and punishment.

Mona Perkins remained unaffected by Martha’s hesitation while she dialed the entrance code. Martha's insides knotted as the doors snapped shut and the floor cranked downwards.

Martha struggled to keep pace with Mona Perkins as they marched across the massive Ministry of Magic atrium even though she did not worry about getting lost. The route to the Auror’s office was a familiar one. She’d taken it many times throughout her life as she visited her mum at work. When they reached the Auror Department, Mona Perkins pulled her past rows and rows of cubicles. Martha tried to poke her head into a few in the hopes of spotting a familiar face, but Mona Perkins’s sharp pace prevented her from getting a good look at the few Aurors in the office early in the morning.

They came to a halt at a series of doors on the far end of the department. Mona Perkins rapped her wand against the one of the handles and its door flung open. Martha looked inside and was immediately taken aback by how much the small room resembled the holding cell she’d just escaped. It was windowless, unadorned except for only one simple table in its middle. It took a moment for her tired brain to realize that there were actually people sitting around the table.

A harried looking young man in Auror robes sat at one end of the table taking rapid notes both with his own hand and a self-writing quill. One the other end, three younger people simultaneously rambled in a way that it was miraculous the Auror could make any sense anything they said. It was Lily, James, and Sirius.

Mona Perkins ushered her inside and closed the door. The room instantly quieted as everyone turned in their direction. Martha was relieved none of her friends looked any worse than the last time she saw them. They leapt up from their seats at the sight of Martha and enveloped her with hugs and questions. Martha caught the eye of the young Auror, who gave her a sympathetic and exasperated look.

“Martha! You’re not dead!”

“Where did you go? No one would tell us.”

“You scared me, McKinnon! I thought I shook you out of my bike into a ditch.”

“Everyone will be so glad you’re okay!”

“We’ve been here forever! The Aurors say – “

“That’s ENOUGH!” Lily, James, and Sirius fell silent at Mona Perkins’ command. In the relief of seeing her friends safe, Martha nearly forgot where she was.

“Auror Longbottom,” Mona Perkins, impatient and tired, addressed the man taking notes. “Are you finished with these three?”

“I’d say so,” he sighed as he silenced the self-writing quill and put down his own parchment. “I have should have enough for the incident report now.”

“You’ll have to make your report a little longer. This girl somehow ended up staying the night in a Muggle police station. We have to know how that happened.”

Longbottom raised his eyebrows into astonishing arches. “You want me to interrogate Deputy Head McKinnon’s daughter?”

“I want you to do your job. I do not care whose daughter she is. Her statement is crucial to resolving this mess and figuring out what truly occurred at the Bardo Den last night. What caused the fight? Which of the two groups enabled the destruction? Who started to obliviate the Muggles before we arrived? That is a serious breach of law!”

“Shouldn’t the Auror Department’s investigation team decide who to, well, investigate?” said Longbottom suspiciously.

“I have the lead here, Longbottom! This falls under the jurisdiction of the Magical Reversal Squad.”

“WRONG! Wrong again, Perkins!” boomed a gruff, commanding voice.

She jumped around to find none other than Head Auror Alastair Moody standing in the threshold, having somehow covertly entered despite his wooden leg. No matter how many times Martha met Moody, he always startled her. He spoke and carried himself with a dominant and fierce manner aided by his dark brown eyes that bore deeply into whomever they fixed upon. Stories about his exploits fighting Death Eaters were so widespread that they were close to legends.

“Wrong, Head Auror Moody?” Mona Perkins remained direct, though some of her bravado had visibly vanished.

“Yes, and you know it,” Moody growled. “There were Death Eaters at that town last night. It’s UNDENIABLE. And unless your meddling bosses have changed the rules and found ANOTHER WAY to disrupt MY department, then the Aurors now have lead jurisdiction here. You did your job. Magic is reversed. Now leave these kids to me and find something useful to do.”

Mona Perkins appeared unfazed save for her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. As she strode past Moody and out of the door, Martha noticed Moody and Longbottom exchanging conspiratorial nods. She wondered if such tensions within the Ministry were common, especially as the war worsened.

Taking a seemingly telepathic cue from his boss, Longbottom gathered his papers and smiled at the teenagers on his way out of the room. Lily, James, and Sirius all appeared shocked and taken aback by the bombastic Auror Moody. He, either unaware of or unsympathetic to their unease, thudded down into Longbottom’s recently vacated chair and tersely gestured at the seats of the opposite end of the interrogation table. They tentatively obliged.

“What did you tell that woman?” he barked.

“I don’t know if I said two words to her, sir,” replied Martha. “All she did was pick me up from that Muggle police station and bring me here.”

“And we didn’t even speak to her,” added Sirius defensively. “We only talked to that Longbottom bloke. He didn’t look like he was writing down everything we said, but we still made sure to leave out all we could about the Order.”

Moody raised his left eyebrow, which had a fresh scar running down its middle.

“Er – at least we guessed that was what we should do,” he added. "Sir."

“Lucky guess, lad,” said Moody. He seemed to slightly relax into his chair, satisfied that they didn’t reveal classified information. “Another lucky guess that _I am_ a person you could discuss the Order with. That could’ve been a grave mistake.”

“No offense Mr. Head Auror Moody, sir, but we know about the Order and would be a bit surprised if you’re not a part of it,” said James.

“Not one for being discrete, am I? Not when it comes to fighting evil in its many human forms. I suppose you’re all anxious to hear about what really happened last night?”

“Yes, we are!” exclaimed Lily. “That Auror who interrogated us, Longbottom, wouldn’t tell us a thing!” 

“Where are our friends?” demanded Martha, almost afraid of his response.

“They’re all fine.” James spoke before Moody could. Martha exhaled a deep sigh of relief. “They didn’t know what was happening at all. I think they’re all together somewhere waiting to hear from us. The Ministry told me I had come in for questioning since I was at the battle.”

“What about the Death Eaters?” asked Martha. “They didn’t come back did they? I heard this awful explosion right before Marlene dragged me away.”

“Deputy McKinnon would have my neck for telling her daughter this,” he sighed slowly. For the first time since lambasting Mona Perkins, Moody allowed for his steely exterior to soften. “No, girl, the Order’s soldiers drove those snakes off. What you heard was the Bardo Den exploding. It’s gone now. The Death Eater’s trap went off and destroyed it.”

Martha’s insides froze. She knew only one way that trap could have gone off.

“And Win?” she asked.

“What about Win?” snapped James.

“You’re a smart girl. You can guess what happened,” Moody growled bitterly. “He’s the one who set if off. If what you told the other Order soldiers is true and he did break the Imperious Curse, then my best guess is he was scared stiff that he’d fall back under and become a Death Eater pawn again. Those who break control usually are. He used his fleeting freedom to make sure he wouldn’t use the explosives to hurt anyone. Blew the Bardo Den to pieces and himself with it.”

Lily let out a small scream. Sirius pushed his chair back with a clatter and kicked the nearest wall. James, on the other hand, stared at Moody as if he did not understand a single word of what he just said.

“But he was just… But he broke… no.” 

“My people are talking to his parents now. They’re being told he’s a hero who saved many lives. As he rightfully should be remembered.” 

Moody mimicked the raising of a glass in a toast. Lily and James stiffly mirrored him. Even Sirius sat back down and joined the little memorial. Martha felt her own arm raise, a motion so eerily similar that the self-indulgent and happy toast Bim led at the Leaky Cauldron an eternity ago. Only this time she felt numb and detached from herself.

Although she’d only been on speaking terms with Win for less than 24 hours, the loss was incomprehensible. He was so recently joyful and irritated and jealous and welcoming and brave and so very human. A full person was gone. Her mind raced to figure out if there was some way, any way she could have saved him.

“The Order could’ve kept it all under wraps. We’re good at that. But we couldn’t let a young man’s sacrifice be swept under the rug. Not to mention the bloody Ministry has strict rules about Muggle law enforcement. It wasn’t worth my skin or anyone else’s to get Martha free without going through the official channels.” He spoke with such disdain that one could forget that he himself was technically a Ministry officer. 

“Hold on. Law enforcement?” said Lily with indignant confusion. “Martha, did you say that woman picked you up from a police station?”

“Yeah. Marlene hid me in some Muggle shop after I jumped off of Sirius’s bike. I set off a Muggle alarm and they thought I was trespassing.”

James swore, while Sirius let out a low whistle and said, “I would tell you that you got yours for nearly killing yourself on my bike, but we didn’t fare much better. The Magical Reversal Squad arses swarmed us right as we were leaving the town. It felt like we got arrested too!”

“Quit being so soft,” said Moody, his voice regaining its earlier bite. “If you’re arrested by MY department, you’ll get the full treatment like anyone else of age would. Thank your stars Longbottom was here. He’s one of the few left around with any sense.”

“Does the Ministry not like the Order or something?” asked Martha.

“Of course they don’t like the Order! The Ministry and all their bureaucratic rules are too incompetent to fight Voldemort, so we step in. And oh, they hate us for it! How they would love to take claim for ousting a Holyhead Harpy Quidditch star as a Death Eater. Hah! It’s mostly the old pureblood guard that has it in for us. They’re nothing but extensions of the Death Eaters if you ask me. Those of us who operate in both the Ministry and the Order, like Deputy Head McKinnon and myself, have to keep from being persecuted ourselves.”

“My mum hasn’t mentioned anything about that. No one else in my family either.”

“Your mum is one of my best deputies, but tries too hard to pretend to get along with everyone. The Ministry’s own Mrs. Popularity. That’s her strategy. Mine is different. You can’t trust anyone enough to even pretend to be nice to them. You’ve got to let them know you’re ALWAYS watching. Constant vigilance!”

Moody suddenly rose from the interrogation table and limped towards the door, his wooden leg rapping on the stone floor. Despite Moody’s claim, Martha thought he and her mum were eerily similar. Both threw themselves into their work and put up steely. Yet, both also place the humanity for which they fight above the purity of the fight itself. Moody broke Order protocol to ensure Win Henderson is properly mourned. Martha’s mother, and the rest of the McKinnon family, participate in a hectic ‘home duty’ schedule to keep an eleven-year-old safe. Maybe human connections like these were the key to surviving these times. That, or the key to falling into madness. 

“So, can we go find our other friends?” asked James. "They should know about... about Win."

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Moody. “Don’t know why you’re still here. I can make up Martha’s statement myself. Something those Magical Reversal buffoons can easily digest. We’ll have your parents pick you up.”

“Sir, please can you not?” asked Lily. “My family are Muggles and wouldn’t understand any of this. And you can’t let Sirius _Black’s_ parents come get him. Didn’t you say that we were being treated as if we’re of age?”

“Fine, fine. But McKinnon stays. I’m under strict orders to not let her run away again.”

“Orders from who?”

That moment, the door violently swung open. As if she were summoned by an unknowable force that thrived on perfect timing, Marlene entered the room. To Martha’s surprise, Marlene was alert and energized, despite two consecutive nights without sleep. She was coated in a darkish film that could only be ash of the destroyed Bardo Den. Her eyes blazed as they fixed on Martha.

The sisters rushed together into a tight embrace. Martha suddenly felt small as the weight of everything hit her at once. The Averys. The alley way. The battle. Sitting alone in the police station. Win. She bit her lip to keep everything locked inside. Alastor Moody, of all people, couldn’t see her break down.

When they broke apart, Martha expected Marlene to scold her for not listening to a single word she said all night, from drinking too much to leaving her hiding place after the battle. Marlene instead looked her up and down and laughed.

“Nice shorts, little sister.”

Martha groaned. She forgot about the too-tiny yellow shorts the police officer gave her.

“Really, Martha-My-Dear,” added Lily. “I’ve been waiting to ask about those, but it didn’t really seem like the right time.”

“I –er – may have been arrested without my trousers.” Laughter echoed around the small room. Not even Moody could suppress a chuckle.

“I found them crumpled on that bathroom floor. I left them behind, but grabbed this.” Marlene held out Martha’s purse.

Eyes wide, Martha snatched it close to her. Inside she found her wand safe and whole. She grabbed its handle and felt the warmth of security spread up her arm.


	9. Chapter 9

The two McKinnon sisters wove their way through the maze of Ministry hallways and elevators until they arrived at a stately row of fireplaces. Hands full of floo powder, they stepped in the grates and spoke of home.

Martha stumbled out of the fireplace onto the sooty living room floor. Marlene had departed first and was already rummaging around the kitchen. Martha walked in just as thick steam rose from two cups of tea with a wave of Marlene’s wand. They each took a cup and stepped out to their back patio.

The sun had risen, but just barely. The air still tasted of morning dew and the only sounds were to coos of morning doves.

“Marion is still in bed,” said Marlene. “She fell asleep before I left.”

Martha didn’t know what to say. Marlene seemed at a loss for words as well. She leaned back in her chair and stared out at the garden fence with a weariness unsuited to her 20 years. Her face was dusted with ash from both the fireplace and the smoldering Bardo Den. The smoldering Bardo Den…

“Win is dead,” Martha finally uttered.

Marlene sat up pulling the hot mug to her chest in a two-handed grip. She looked Martha in the eyes, the exact shade of brown as her own, and nodded.

“Win is dead. You almost got hurt, or worse. James and your friends too,” she monotonously muttered.

“I’m so sorry I fucked up!” burst Martha. A swollen mass throbbed in her throat. It was as if her heart were threatening to leap out of her mouth and abandon her. “We were so dumb. I can’t believe we eaves dropped on them and started that fight. Win would still be alive if we hadn’t made a scene.”

“Martha, no! Are you bloody kidding me?! If you blame yourself just for acting like the naïve teenager you are, then I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”

Martha stared at her sister blankly through misty eyes.

“ _That_ was the extra patrol I was supposed to go on tonight,” Marlene sighed. “The one I skipped to watch Marion.”

“B-b-but if I didn’t insist on going out and force you to skip – “

“No, no. Since when could you force me to do anything? I’ve been running thin all week and truly didn’t want to do an extra patrol again. Even Order members need breaks some-damn-times. But do you remember Professor Brassens who used to teach Defense? He’s a friend of Dumbledore’s who happens to be a Bardo Den regular. He alerted the Order when he noticed a couple of suspected Death Eaters lurking about. Benjy was on headquarters duty last night and rallied some of the younger Order members to go undercover. Gideon and Hestia went and I was supposed to be there too. Sure, I came in with the reinforcements, but what would’ve been different if I just did my job in the first place? Would I have seen or done something the others didn’t? Would I have said something to you to stop you from getting tangled up in that mess? Who the hell knows?”

“It’s not your fault!” cried Martha.

“I know. And it’s not yours either,” said Marlene bracingly. “The fault lies with _them_ and no one else! I don’t care how far down into the pit of self-pity your anxious and introspective brain takes you; if you put blame on yourself, then you take it away from the people who deserve it.”

“Does telling yourself that actually work?”

“No. Not always.” Marlene took a hearty gulp of tea and retched as she burnt the back of her throat.

Martha looked over the back garden and tried to exorcise her guilt. She conjured up the image that thrust her night into a madness. The sight of Fiona marching across the town square with Win in tow. Her control over him was achingly obvious in hindsight. His expression was vacant, hers full of determination and malice. Other flashes came to her. Flashes of Fiona flirting, of Fiona singing to her, of Fiona’s face maliciously hovering inches over her own as she prepared to strike.

“They’re truly evil,” said Martha heavily. “I mean, I always knew that. Or at least I thought I did. But no newspaper, no guarded conversations between you and our parents prepared me to look into the eyes of people plotting the deaths of hundreds. And this must happen a lot, or at least so much more often that I’m aware of.”

“I told before you left, didn’t I? It’s getting worse, this war is,” replied Marlene. “So, no, plots on the scale of the Bardo Den don't happen often. At the rate things are going, though, I have no doubt that will change.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been, for the most part, underground and out of view. That doesn't mean its not unimaginatively terrible and destructive. It just isn't in most people's lives.” Martha noted that Marlene’s world-weariness gradually dissipated as a fresh zeal took its place.

“But the Death Eaters have moved from using destruction to strategically gain power towards using it to indiscriminately to sow chaos. The Bardo Den was meant to scare people, make them feel unsafe. They’re not just targeting Muggleborns anymore. Their purist supremacy now has the power to touch _everyone_ , even those remaining willfully ignorant including the Ministry. And that’s why I keep on fighting! That’s why Mum and Dad do too after all these years. That’s why we’ve sacrificed anything resembling a normal life. We look in the faces of what you call ‘evil’ because someone must, but no one else will.”

Martha always associated her older sister’s involvement in the Order with exhaustion. For the past two years, Martha assumed Marlene hand joined because of familial duty. But now, as she spoke of her fight, her voiced was thick with pride and passion. She resembled the fierce fighter from the night before. Martha felt a dull pang of jealousy.

“I’m always afraid, Marlene,” she said darkly. “Always angry too. I think that’s why I hate, _hate_ it when I get left home alone. And it’s been even worse this summer. I have no control over that anger or fear, so I allow it to control _me_ instead while I sit on my arse, eat instant noodle, and listen to Marion innocently prattle on. It’s been draining me, day after day after day until that fear and anger became all that I am. But tonight, I _did_ something and it felt right. I felt powerful! I blasted bad people! I stood up to people who were making me anxious all night! You say the Death Eaters want to make us _more_ afraid. But, why should I be afraid of them? Why can’t they be afraid of me?”

“Don’t let Mum or Dad hear you talk like that. They’d be bloody miffed if you talk like you’re a part of the Order. Not to mention they would kill me,” said Marlene although she didn’t bother to suppress a smile. “There is more than one way to fight, you know. If doing something makes you feel more in control, then you’ll have no problem finding an outlet that suits you, Order or no Order.”

Martha detected a slight emptiness in her sister’s final statement. She couldn’t imagine a way to fight beyond the all-or-nothing family tradition, and doubted Marlene could either.

“What, you think I want to be like you?” teased Martha, wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled. “All I wanted to do was go to a gig, dress like a bombshell, get a little buzzed, and wake up to eggs and toast. Instead, I ended up fighting a group of mad purists and woke up in a jail cell half-naked. What sort of lunatic would want more nights like that?” 

“When you put it that way…” grinned Marlene through her soot-covered face. “Did you at least have a good time earlier in the night?”

“I suppose. One minute I’d be on top of the world, loving my friends and my life and every bloody molecule in existence. But then seeing the Avery brothers, just that one little bloody thing, would send me spiraling down. I couldn’t control it. Having a good time was its own battle.”

“I know what you mean,” nodded Marlene. “The world we live in is so fucked up that there is really no real room for mistakes or time to stop being on guard. Especially since your case may be a tad different. Did the Death Eaters nearly shit themselves in glee when they thought they had a McKinnon in their clutches?”

“Yeah, especially Fiona. But I realized while I was in the Muggle police cell that there will always be threats from those who want us all to be meek and afraid. Daring to have fun, to go out, to fight for what I believe in is its own form of rebellion.”

“Well, as stupid as your decisions in the aftermath were, I’m proud of your little rebellion. It was a creative way to get out of your swim meet, that’s for sure,” laughed Marlene.

Martha threw her head back and groaned. She’d completely forgotten about her morning swim meet, despite her earlier insistence on skipping the Peakish Gnomes gig for the race. She grabbed Marlene’s wrist and twisted it on its side so that her watch face was right-side up.

“If I grab my things now, I’ll be able to make it.”

“You’re mad! How much sleep did you actually get last night?”

“I dozed off a bit at the police station. I think.”

“So why on Earth do you want to race against people much, much more well-rested and put together?”

“I guess I’m already ready for another rebellion,” shrugged Martha with a smirk.

* * *

Within the next hour Martha was at the pool in her swimsuit and sweats, stretching behind the starting blocks. She’d missed the team warm up and her first race. When she arrived, magically dropped off by Marlene, her coach instantly swooped down and ushered her to the team benches while berating her on the merits of punctuality.

Martha was too tired to care. Not to mention she had a blistering headache. She couldn’t even be bothered by her teammates’ attempts to start menial conversation. They could not even begin to comprehend the conversations Martha wanted to have. But that was not their fault.

Martha watched the race before hers end as the swimmers pushed themselves up out of the pool and fought to catch their breaths. Martha thought their momentary weariness was no match for her own mental and physical exhaustion. She put her hands on the starting block in front of her and stretched her shoulders out, painful bruises rippling down her back.

A man with a megaphone announced the start of her race. She stepped up on the block, put on her goggles, and shook out her long arms before grabbing the block’s ledge. A moment of anticipatory quiet that hung over the pool as racers and spectators held their breaths.

The jarring buzzer blared. Martha reacted quickly, springing off the board and jettisoning like a torpedo breaking through the water’s surface.

The water was sharply cold. Martha felt her blood tighten and the air rationed in her lungs evaporate. Her full body cried out in protest, wanting nothing more than to sink to the concrete bottom of the pool if would relieve her pain.

Martha pushed that desire down as she worked her way back up for air at the surface her left arm craning up and reaching forward as her right followed. Just as she fell into the familiar rhythm, a wall loomed closer. But Martha knew what to do. Engaging muscles in her entire body, she flipped over and pushed with all her might off the wall as she shot herself forward.

After a couple more laps, Martha felt what little energy she had in her reserves draining. But she wasn’t fighting to win, a feat near impossible in her present state. Unable to focus on anything but her own race, Martha wasn’t even aware where her competitors were. She merely was fighting to prove herself resilient and capable of finishing. She was fighting because she could.

Three more laps. Two more laps. One. More. Bloody. Lap.

The last few meters were dragging. Though Martha tried with all her might, she couldn’t muster a last sprint as she normally did. The second she extended her arm as far as she could and touched the wall for a final time, she broke out of the water gasping for air and collapsed her arms and head onto the edge of the pool.

That was without a doubt, she thought, the worst swim of her life. She was never the best on the team since she only trained during the summers, but she always managed to put up a good showing. With a deep inhale and an even deeper exhale, she began the process of putting it all behind her and moving forward.

“Martha! Martha! Martha!”

Someone in the spectator stands was calling her name. Several someones.

Martha craned her head ever so slightly and nearly swallowed a mouthful of chlorinated water.

All of her friends sat in a line across the first row of the spectator stands, excitedly waving and cheering. Each of them looked as sleepless and spent as she felt. They were still in their clothes from last night, which were earning them bewildered looks from other families and fans.

Mary was cheering the loudest of them all. She’d reassumed her ordinary brown hair, although the white fur coat was still tied around her waist. Next to her stood Sera, who laughed as she held Martha’s camera up to her face and pointed it at its elated owner. Lily and Bim, both still managing to look graceful even with make up running down their faces and frayed clothes, held crudely made signs bearing Martha’s name. Even the boys came to cheer her on. All four of them in various stages of disarray, but all possessing the same playful enthusiasm.

Both of her sisters made it. Marlene wore a broad grin, instantly letting Martha know who the mastermind behind her cheering squad was.

As she lifted up out of the pool and wrapped herself in a warm towel, Martha felt an immeasurable surge of affection. After the longest night of her life, this was all the comfort she needed.

The world they lived in may not truly be at peace anytime soon. Martha highly doubted it ever would. Her life may never be without fear or pain unimaginable to a majority of her peers. But despite all of the fighting and sleepless nights that lay at her feet, she felt more ready than she ever had.

With friends like these, Martha could face even death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it’s DONE!!!  
> I would love to hear what you think :) I’ve wanted to post stories here for AGES and have been having lots of fun doing so.  
> I’m slowly re-working some more of my old stories during my extra time at home, so keep an eye out for more. Are there any characters or storylines you want to hear more from?  
> Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think :)


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